


Our Living Legacy

by YohoAruto



Series: Zack Crescent Strife Just Wants to Grow Things [1]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020), Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst and Feels, Domestic Fluff, Except Some Chosen People, Final Fantasy VII Remake References, Final Fantasy VII Remake Spoilers, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Humor, I Love Crossdressing Cloud Way Too Much, It's All Hojo's (Compilation of FFVII) Fault, Kid Fic, M/M, Story Details are a Mixture of the Original and the Remake game, Time Travel Fix-It, Warning: Hojo (Compilation of FFVII), Wutai (Compilation of FFVII), Wutai Culture, Wutai War (Compilation of FFVII), no surprise, trying to fit everyone in, which I'm pulling out of my ass
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26745058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YohoAruto/pseuds/YohoAruto
Summary: What was more terrifying? Facing off (again) against the living nightmare that was named Sephiroth or being responsible for raising his progeny while hiding said child from Hojo, Shinra, and the man himself?Alternative Timeline/Time-Traveling Fix-itIncludes: ExhaustedDad!Cloud, AwkwardbutTryingtobePresent!Vincent, Grandma!Lucrecia, DelightfulbutBratty!Yuffie, Gleeful!Genesis, Peacekeeper!Angeal, Enabler!Aerith, and Sephiroth trying to figure out how he should feel about his son and the blond man who came out of nowhere to turn his (much less than idyllic) life upside down. And he can't seem to mind it either way.
Relationships: Sephiroth/Cloud Strife
Series: Zack Crescent Strife Just Wants to Grow Things [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946962
Comments: 61
Kudos: 348





	1. A Reunion with the Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> Hojo is an insane bastard. And not even the good kind.

Cloud didn’t understand how Vincent could stand having his bandana worn so close to his eyes. Or how it stayed on because he had been adjusting his own black one every five minutes on his forehead. Regardless, he didn’t take it off. It was one of the more subtle ways of hiding the mako glow in his eyes and a common fashion accessory in the slums.

Too bad First Tsuguri made it difficult to blend in anywhere, but unlike those in the upper plate, no one on ground level would ask questions or bother him. 

Sector Five Undercity’s train station was busier than he had expected. And judging by the large gathering of men in Shinra’s military fatigues and the rally of women, men, and families launching themselves at them, it probably wasn’t because Sector Five slums was a popular place to visit. He had forgotten that Shinra was in the midst of a war against Wutai-- honestly, he had forgotten a lot of what happened during this time period but didn’t let him stop him from taking advantage of it.

Weapon control in the slums was loose at best and with all the returning infantry in the area, he shouldn’t stand out too badly. 

Feeling a tug on his leg, Cloud looked down, his hand automatically -barely but gently- touching the back of the hooded head near his waist. He tried not to react when the child flinched, their bright green, cat-like eyes briefly glancing at his face before turning their gaze around to their surroundings. The older man tried not to grimace and lowered the boy’s hood to hide the little one’s strikingly silver-colored locks before moving towards the opposite direction of the flowing crowd.

The child was disturbingly quiet, so unlike Marlene (so like Denzel under the throes of Geostigma), and Cloud felt his heart clench. 

Soon, they were in the more unpopulated parts of Sector Five slums, on the road leading to Aerith’s church. This area was generally closed off and Cloud was not expecting to see anyone other than a few low leveled monsters here and there, but the ex-mercenary knew that the Turks would make the occasional visit as long as Aerith was in the area. So he kept an eye out for any movements in the shadows, occasionally sending a few Blizzard spells to the hedgehog pies blocking their way and it was only when they were closer to their destination did he realize he wasn’t sure when his old friend started growing flowers at the church. Hel, he wasn’t sure what year it was in the first place. 

Some part of him felt completely lost at the realization. It never occurred to him that there was a time when the church wasn’t Aerith’s church. It was an immortal place to him—it was pretty much immortal, being one of the few things that survived The Meteor, and considering it as anything else would have felt wrong. 

So he froze in front of the steps to the entrance of the church. The large, dark brown doors staring at him as he struggled to control the torrent of emotions spreading from his chest to his throat. 

Underneath the hazy blanket of grief, panic, despair, something tugged in the back of his head, a pinge of curiosity that didn’t belong to him, and Cloud blinked as he looked down at his charge. 

Beneath the shadow of his hood, beneath the blankness it often held, the little one’s eyes shone with faint curiosity as he narrowed his sharp, bright eyes towards the church's double doors. Though the child made no outward gesture, staying strictly by Cloud’s side, it was obvious that the other wanted to take a look inside. 

It was that innocent wonder that gave Cloud the courage to take the first step. Aerith’s church had been a place where many of the orphans (Denzel and Marlene, some aching part of him cried out) frequently visited. It was a place of joy and delight, of radiance and peace. It had always held his late friend’s warmth, which everyone could feel in every corner in the church, in every flower that blooms in Midgar’s dry, desolated earth. 

There wasn’t a sun to be seen in the sky, even as some parts of Sector Five’s plate was left unfinished, but there was a ray of light nonetheless that made the church’s unique architecture much more radiant and lovely. As if it was beckoning them, as if he could hear Aerith’s soft voice in between the cracks in the walls, he opened both doors and held his breath as he saw a field of white, yellow, and green. 

Originally, as he saw light streaming down from the ceiling, he thought that his fall was what made the large hole in the roof but it seemed to have been there before his second (first true?) meeting with Aerith. 

Of course, that would make sense in a certain way. The flowers would need sunlight, and somehow the church was one of the few places that could provide it.

Curiosity tugged onto the back of his sense once again, more insistently this time, and when he reluctantly pulled his unblinking eyes away from Aerith’s flowers, bright and beautiful with petals full of luster, he saw the young boy doing the same thing as well. He stared at the plants with a rather predatory-like focus, his mako-green eyes wide and shining with wonder, and Cloud wondered whether the child had ever seen flowers before. Or plants in general. 

Remembering where he had found the young thing, in a place full of smooth walls and sharp angles, the smell of disinfection and acidic chemicals in the air, he highly doubted it. Maybe in books or images and descriptions from electronic devices if they ever bothered to include botany within whatever messed up education they gave him. 

With a rather strange mixture of amusement and grimness, Cloud moved closer to the large cluster flowers further into the church, noticing how the boy would migrate a little further away from his body and closer to Aerith’s garden as they were halfway through the aisle. The older man made a mirthful huff and directed them to the pew closest to the blossoms. 

The blond moved his sword as he sat down, taking the opportunity to readjust his bandana once again, and was partly expecting the young boy to take off and explore the rest of the church as children tend to do. But for some reason, the child’s attention was snapped back towards Cloud, the sharper pupils of his eyes contrasting as he stared straight into the other’s face.

The ex-mercenary had to physically and mentally force himself not to react to those familiar eyes, one of his hands digging their fingers into the calf of his leg. 

Rather belatedly, he realized this was the first time he was at eye-level with the boy. The time where he picked up the child’s limp body and carried him against his chest, the head full of silver strands tucked delicately underneath his jaw, didn’t count. The kid wasn’t even conscious while he was doing so.

They both ogle at each other for the longest of time with matching blank expressions. No one bothered offering a sound in the peaceful but empty silence of the church. Cloud wasn’t sure what to say. Or what to do, since any plans he could have been making had been thrown out off the plate and into the wasteland when he decided to take (not kidnap, _not steal_ ) Sephiroth’s biological child from under Hojo’s long and greasy nose.

It was not really a sound decision at the time. Then again, a lot of his life choices weren't really sound either. At least with this one, he wouldn’t regret it. He basically refused to regret anything about it. No matter if the child was his arch enemy’s flesh and blood, or how much he disturbingly looked like his tormentor and his tormentor’s remnants.  
Licking his dry lips, Cloud sighed quietly, breaking their intense staredown as the boy finally blinked his large, cat-like eyes.

“...What is your name?” Cloud finally settled to ask first. The labcoats he saw around the boy had never called him by his name. He had heard ‘it’, ‘the subject’, ‘Subject S-’something, or ‘the boy’-- all manner of names that indicated a thing rather than a human being. He didn’t know how they could look at his young face, gazed into those limpid, soulful eyes, experience the fragileness of those small hands clinging onto him, and not see a vulnerable child that deserved none of the cruelty they enacted upon him.  
In response to the question, there was an inquisitive blink, one that Cloud wasn’t sure how to interpret before the child straightened his back, his posture reminiscent of what little he remembered of his infantry days. 

“My designation is S-177,” the boy answered promptly, too much like a Shinra soldier on duty, and Cloud had to force the burning bile in his throat back down into his stomach.

“I mean--” The older man cleared his throat, the first couple of words coming out curter than he would have liked. “Not… not your designation,” he finished softly, instinctively placing a gentle, comforting hand on the younger’s thin arms. Though the boy didn’t flinch, he gave Cloud’s hand a quick glimpse, seemingly perturbed by the touch. “What is your birth name? Your name outside of… outside of the lab.”

Another blink, the eyes now clouded with befuddlement before their gazes were lowered towards Cloud’s knees. The child seemed troubled by the simple question. 

“I… My designation is S-177. I have no other alias.”

Well. It really shouldn’t have surprised Cloud that Hojo wouldn’t even have bothered giving his grandchild his own name (he didn’t even refer Sephiroth, his son, Subject S, by his name in his notes and lab reports). He never saw people. He never saw anything beyond his own demented, self-absorbed ego and his insane experiments that meant more harm than good to the general populace. What made him think that the madman’s own family would be treated any different from anything else?

But regardless of the scientist’s lack of anything regarding a working conscience and common human decency, Cloud couldn’t keep calling the boy ‘you’ or ‘the child’. And he rather shoved himself into Bahamut’s ass than call the kid that ‘S-177’ shit.

(He stubbornly, hysterically, ignored the implication that there was more than one attempts in creating offspring for the General. Nope, for the sake of his sanity and his hope in humanity, that was something he would never look deeply into.)

Carefully, slowly, to where the boy could see the movements of his hands, he removed his hood away from his head, allowing the sunlight to soften all the shadows in the child’s feature. His silver hair shone a healthy luster, the strands brushing the full, pale cheeks as the little one briefly glanced up at Cloud before lowering his gaze once again.

His head was a little messy and short-- the locks barely touching his thin shoulders and so unlike the flowing perfection of Sephiroth’s ridiculously long hair that Cloud was almost relieved to see it. 

“Then--” The older man paused, leaning forward slightly to see if he could catch the child’s shifting eyes. “What do you want to be called then?”

“...What do I want to be called?”

“Yeah,” Cloud encouraged, making sure to keep his tone even but open. “Do you have a name you prefer?”

The glowing green eyes snapped back up to his, the child’s mouth hanging open as if he wasn’t sure how to respond to the question. 

There was a long stretch of silence between them, but Cloud wasn’t in a rush for an answer. Even if they should have gone straight out of Midgar hours-- no, days ago. Though rushing out into the wastelands was basically suicide, especially when they didn’t have any means of transportation through it, but it was probably better than staying in the same area -the same continent- as Hojo. Regardless, he knew better than to rush children when they were thinking or trying to make a decision. His friends always thought he talked too seriously with the children that came up to him, especially with Marlene and Denzel, but they never seemed bothered by it. He liked how they tried to mimic his attitude when they talked back, and a lot of the time, they would either end up saying something insightful or amusing-- or both, really.

“I--” The word was nearly spat out. For some reason, the boy was tense and his posture was defensive. “I don’t know. I apologize.”

“You don’t have to apologize. There’s nothing to apologize for,” Cloud immediately soothed, slightly bewildered by the younger’s reaction. “It’s not something we have to decide or figure out now--”

He heard a creak near the front entrance and without so much of a thought, he shot up from the pew, one hand on the hilt of his blade and another one out to move his charge out of sight.

There was a gasp, young and feminine, and when Cloud saw the young (so young, too young) face of a friend once lost, her green-eyes still as earthly as he remembered them even as they were wide with wariness, the air left his lungs.

The younger Aerith (not even a woman yet, some part of his stunned mind reminded him) was both familiar and a stranger to him. She wore a white sundress, simple and humble and homely as she had always been, and her hair pulled up in a similar style to when he had known her. But her pink ribbon was missing. Out of everything he had seen, out of all the dead faces shoved into his face, that hit him the hardest.

He let go of his fusion sword, but his fingers twitched to touch the pink ribbon still tied to his arm. Even as he changed the rest of his clothes to fit into the crowds and to stop people from mistaking him as a SOLDIER, the ribbon was the one thing he refused to take off.

An awkward silence reflected both of their awkward positions and Cloud could hear his charge shuffling behind him, his head peeking out cautiously behind the blond man. Aerith noticed him instantly as the child did and somehow, the atmosphere in the room softened.

“H-Hello?” she called out tentatively, insecure in a way that it broke Cloud’s heart. He remembered how weirdly accepting she was of his sudden appearance, unperturbed by his entrance via the hole in her rooftop. And how friendly and confident she was when she talked to him, a complete and utter stranger, as if they had known each other for years. She approached Tifa the same way as well when they had first met, eager and full of enthusiasm.

“We’re…” Cloud croaked faintly, many different types of emotions building up in his chest and threatening to consume him. “We… apologize for trespassing,” he managed and it hurt to talk to her like a stranger, as if she hadn’t done everything that was good in his life and left her mark in his heart.

“Oh, no! It’s not my church or anything,” she quickly reassured, and maybe she could sense the distress in his otherwise flat tone because she immediately looked concerned. “I just--” She waved over to the flowers behind Cloud with both of her hands. “--I plant flowers here.”

“Flowers?” 

The skeptical question didn’t come from either of them and when Cloud turned around to look at his charge, the child had a wide-eyed look, curiosity and trepidation clashing like waves in the space between them. The blond couldn’t help but give a comforting hand to the boy’s head, lightly touching the soft hair. The conflicting emotions he could sense quieted but the restlessness stayed. 

“Yes, flowers,” Aerith confirmed with a voice full of softness and indulgence. She had always treated children more warmly, the little one’s presence causing her to relax in their company. 

There was a small frown on the boy’s nearly flawless face as he took a glance at the flowers behind them. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before admitting, “They don’t look like flowers…”

“Oh?” the young woman uttered out of interest, walking closer to them in a curious and sincere manner. Seeing that she was getting closer, the little one hid further behind him, not because he feared her but because he feared that she could recognize him. Fortunately, Aerith didn’t seem bothered by his ‘shy’ reaction and stopped a distance away. She crouched down to the child’s height, a kind smile blooming from her lips. “What do you think flowers looked like?”

It was a harmless inquiry, one that shouldn’t cause the boy to tense as much as he did as he now practically clung onto the back of Cloud’s shirt.

His charge didn’t answer for a long minute but both of them were patient enough to wait for an answer. And it was obvious that he wanted to answer because Cloud could still see the young boy’s mouth opening and closing.

“...Flowers supposed to be big and… and open. And they have these black centers with large... yellow petals.” The last part was mumbled, barely heard even in the quietness of the church.

Cloud felt a little amused, but mostly sad, by the child’s quiet mood. “A sunflower,” the older man explained, his voice low but gentle. “The ones over there are also flowers as well. There are many types around the world and these are commonly known as Easter Lilies. They symbolized reunion.”

“...Reunion?” Suddenly, the boy looked up at him, and the cat-like eyes paired with the word ‘reunion’ almost caused his arm to have a jerk-like reaction towards the hilt of First Tsuguri. Instead, he closed his eyes briefly, trying to concentrate on the subtle, floral scent in the room and not the looming, Sephiroth-shaped shadow above the boy’s head.

“Oh, you know flowers!” Aerith abruptly announced with excitement, and when Cloud opened his eyes once more, the last bit of wariness completely faded from her bright-green eyes. “There’s not a lot of people that know flowers.”

Cloud swallowed in response, his mouth dry. “Yeah. A friend--” --you-- “--taught me a lot about them.” 

The young woman hummed as she straightened her knees and stood up. “They must be very knowledgeable.” She was. Is. But that wasn’t something he could say out loud. 

Aerith patted her skirt down before holding out a hand, nearly giggling when both the older man and the young boy blinked simultaneously at her gesture. “I’m Aerith,” she self-introduced with a charming tilt of her head. “And you two are?”

Cloud stared at the dainty fingers much more than what was probably appropriate before he clumsy, awkwardly, reached out with his own rough hand. “I’m… I’m…” Could he give her his real name? Would that be a good idea? Or was it possible that he might implicate his younger self if he did so? “Kumo--” The older man cringed in his verbal vomit, spitting out the nickname Yuffie had made for him. 

( _“Now you’re all Wutainese!” Yuffie declared after giving everyone their Wutainese-equivalent name. “So as your Empress, you’re required to come back to Wutai with me!”_ )

“Hello Kumo,” Aerith greeted cheerfully and shook his hand without even a blink at the obviously non-Migardian name. She soon took away her hand from his and Cloud tried to ignore the lingering warmth on his fingertips as he dropped his arm to his side. Then, he noticed her looking down toward his charge and realized they had yet to establish a name for the little one. The child seemed very disinclined to speak, his lips pursed shut, and Cloud scrambled to find a good temporary name for the boy. 

“This is Zack,” was what his stupid mouth decided to blurt, displaying his social incompetency in the most tragic way possible. Because using his dead friend’s (not-really-dead friend’s?) and Aerith’s boyfriend’s name was apparently a good idea for his brain. “It’s short of Zachariah,” he feebly tried to amend; he was pretty sure Zack was Zack’s full name and not shortened for something else. Pretty sure. Actually, not really that sure.

But he looked into Aerith’s eyes and was jarred by the lack of recognition. There was not a hint of familiarity or fondness that he would remember seeing whenever she would mention or talk about Zack.

Was it possible that… they hadn’t met yet? Had he gone far enough where Aerith and Zack were not even together yet?

Just like with Aerith’s church, it seemed inconceivable to him that the two would be… apart, in any form or fashion. That their lives were not somehow intermingled within each other. To him, it had never been _Aerith_ and _Zack_ , but instead _Aerith and Zack_. To see them together was his norm. To see them together was a form of happiness he could not describe.

It was only because of years in controlling his facial expressions, years of controlling his emotions either by pretending they didn’t exist or covering them with something else, that his grief went unseen. 

“Kumo and Zack, huh?” the yet-to-be woman repeated, clapping her hands together in a lively manner. “Well, it’s nice to meet both of you! It’s not my place, but please make yourself comfortable!” She held out her hands and spun as if to showcase the entire church. 

“Thank you,” was all Cloud could say at the moment as Aerith moved towards the flowers, a little hop in her step as she swerved around to face them once again.

She seemed less cautious of them now that they have exchanged names and her smile was filled with a warmth he found difficult to look at.

“So… What brings you guys down here? Or do you live in another sector?”

“We…” Cloud lowered his gaze towards his charge, who stared back with two big eyes that should not be able to fit on his little face. “I was… looking for a friend.”

“Oh?” Aerith responded curiously with her hands clasped behind her back.

“Yeah, I was… hoping for some answers.” As to why he’s here. As to how he got here. Why did he appear in one of Hojo’s labs? In Midgar? During the peak of Shinra’s military and economic might? What did they (the Gods? Aerith? Jenova herself?) hope that he would accomplish? 

Why, after all he went through, after all he had done, would they rip him from his family? From Tifa, Marlene, and Denzel? But Cloud knew he wouldn’t get any answers from Aerith, her beautiful and earthly eyes empty of recognition. So he swallowed his inner turmoil and turned towards the Lilies, the petals gleaming in the midday sunlight. In the shimmer of the brightness, he could almost see his Aerith in her red jacket and pink ribbon, kneeling down over the flowers with one hand cupping her ear, playful listening to whatever the flowers told her.

“What are they saying?” he remembered asking her a long time ago, the memory now hazy like a dream after a long restless sleep...

“What is what saying?”

Cloud snapped out of his reverie, his mako-glowing eyes focusing in on the familiar (young) voice. The other Aerith was giving him a rather mystifying expression and it took him a full minute and a half to figure out that he had spoken his thoughts out loud. 

“The--The flowers,” he admitted awkwardly, trying to hide the hesitation in his voice. “Do you… Do you know what the flowers are saying?” Did the Planet say anything about him? The whispers from the Lifestream?

It was surprisingly subtle for someone like Cloud, whose mouth was as blunt as the backside of a buster sword. The type of blunt that made taking the full force of a behemoth charging at point-blank seem soft.

Nonetheless, Aerith seemed intrigued by the question, if not surprised. “Oh, I thought I was the only one that talked to them,” she said rather shyly, rocking a bit in her sandals.

“No, I-- A friend of mine does,” Cloud denied clumsily and a little bit too quickly. He could somehow hear his Aerith laughing at his little white lie. After Aerith’s death, he often tried to speak to her through her flowers so, in a way, he did talk to the flowers. 

She hummed in disbelief, her eyes twinkling in amusement, before moving towards the edge of her garden, bending down just enough to hover over the plot of earth. The young woman cupped her ear towards the flowers and there was a short moment of silence, followed by some kind of agreeing noise in her throat, before straightening back up with a bounce of her curls. 

“Hmmm,” she dragged out as if the flowers had told her something thought-provoking. “They told me… today’s a great day. And that we should expect only good things from now one. And… and…” Aerith trailed off, her serene expression suddenly faltering as her bright green-eyes dimmed with growing apprehension. “And that… and that you’re okay now… You’re going to be okay?” She turned around to face the flowers as if there was someone on the other side of the patch. “You’ll… be happy?”

“Aerith?” Though Cloud’s voice was loud enough to be heard from the rafters, the young woman didn’t even flinch. Her shoulders were stiff but he could see her hands trembling for some reason. The atmosphere shifted into something tense and there was a strange feeling in the air that the older man could not describe. 

Cloud considered calling out to the younger version of his dear friend, or stepping forward to lend a gentle and careful touch on her arm, until he felt, rather than saw, the disbelieving frown on his ‘Zack’s’ face. 

“Flowers can’t talk,” he declared abruptly, startling Aerith from whatever had her dazed. She looked back at them, her earthly eyes zeroing directly at the child and blinked as if she had forgotten he was there. 

The lack of response was long and out of character, her expression hazy as if she came out of a dream, so Cloud lowered himself closer to his charge’s height, giving the young boy a mirthful smile. 

‘Zack’ looked at him wide-eyed, but there was a bit of a pout. It was the kind of pout Marlene would often use when she noticed someone trying to belittle or baby her. The one that she always used when Cloud tried to dodge a question that he could not lie himself through.

With a soft chuckle, he tilted his head towards the flowers, his blond hair swaying slightly at the movement. “Not really,” Cloud admitted, his blue eyes softer even under the mako glow. “But they’re good listeners. And very receptive to attention.” 

The young boy narrowed his eyes at the older man, trying to discern whether the other was lying to him or not, and then turned his glare towards the flowers. The glower was very mild at best and held very little harshness, but it was obvious that the child wasn’t content with the answer. While Cloud had planned on appeasing his charge, and save Aerith’s flower from the little one’s rather dirty look in the meantime, a sound from outside caught his attention. 

It was barely there, like the fall of feathers on the ground, but that was often the subtle calling card of a Turk. Unless you were Reno, whose presence resembled more closely to the clap of thunder. Or giving a hedgehog pie some metal shoes. He had always been a different brand of Turk, one that Rude could somehow tolerate years into their partnership.

“It was nice meeting you,” Cloud told Aerith as he quickly rose to his feet, gently pulling ‘Zack’s’ hood over his head once again, “But we need to go.”

“What?” Aerith’s expression became clear at last, a little baffled by the older man’s curt and rushing attitude. “Go?” She spoke as if she had missed the last few minutes of their conversation but Cloud didn’t really have time to clarify anything to his old (young) friend. The last thing he needed was anyone from Shinra seeing the child. And seeing the child with the guarded Ancient meant involving the teenage girl into his mess.

No, she-- Aerith had always deserved more than being forced into danger. More than being pulled around all over the world as they were being hunted by Shinra, by Hojo, and he would not subject her to that kind of life again. Ironically, she was safer here, under the noses of the megalomaniacs that ruled most of the planet, and that was mostly due to what little conscious Tseng had over the young Cetra’s situation. 

He gently took his charge’s hand and though it twitched at the warm, bare-skinned touch, the fingers immediately curled around a few of the older man’s own. With a reassuring smile on Cloud’s part, he led them around the flowers and towards the back of the church, in the opposite direction of the front entrance.

“W-Wait!” Aerith called out just as Cloud opened the back doors, the insecurity creeping back into her voice and when he turned around to look back at the young girl, he found her reaching out. Confused and anxious, she pulled her hand back near her chest and lowered her head. There was something so uncertain about the way she spoke that it broke his heart. It had almost made him more determined to keep her away from the troubles coming his way. 

“...Thank you,” was all he could say. It was something he had always wanted to tell his Aerith, especially after her death. Some part of him was aware that she could probably hear it, had already heard it many times, somewhere in the lifestream but the fact that he could tell her this while she (well, her younger counterpart) was alive gave him a sort of release that he never knew he needed. ‘Thank you’ was too understated, too simple to describe his fondness, his gratitude for the woman who had done so much for him, but Cloud had always been bad with words (and words with feelings involved) so he hoped it would be enough for her to understand.

He didn’t see the way her head snapped, or how her wide, green eyes had widened, shimmering with unknown emotion, as they followed the departing backs, both big and small, going through the door.


	2. The Show (and Life) Must go On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrea is fabulous but we all knew that.

On the rooftops of the abandoned houses near the church, Cloud narrowed his bright blue eyes, the dark shadows underneath his bandana making the mako glow more prominent than usual. From the distance and near the church’s entrance, the neat dark suits stood out among the rusting buildings and the dry grounds, and even if he didn’t recognize the people, who else could they be but turks?

They loiter around the area but never entered the church itself; a constant but particularly non-threatening presence. At least, non-threatening towards the Ancient. 

Cloud forced himself to look away, adjusting his grip on his charge as he ambled through the precarious path towards Sector Five Undercity’s train station. From over his shoulder, the child had been staring at the Turks from underneath his hood, his little body tense as if he was ready to pounce the minute one of them even _looked_ in their direction. Nevermind that they were at a distance where only enhanced eyes like theirs could see the difference between a human being and maybe some random trash pile in the slums.

With a huff, the older man placed a hand on the junction between the child’s neck and head. “Hold on,” he instructed his charge gently and after a period of stillness and silence, a couple of small arms wrapped around his neck and did just that. After he was sure that the little one was secure in his embrace, he jumped from the two-story height and landed on the ground, the church disappearing from plain sight. 

Soon, Cloud loosened his hold on his charge but didn’t immediately put him down. The child didn’t ask to be put down either, so the blond continued on towards the train station, his mind shifting through scenarios and plans for their future as Shinra fugitives.

They needed supplies, mostly camping supplies because there were rarely any towns not touched by Shinra’s influence. He was not so worried about the dangers outside of Midgar, much less of the creatures and monsters occupying the wilderness, but starvation and thirst was the more immediate threat. He had his sword, his materia, and a lot of other things that would have made a fully-stocked company of soldiers look unprepared, but he lacked all the other essentials of being on the run.

In conclusion, he needed to go shopping. And the best place to get his supplies while not being questioned about his use for said supplies would be Wall Market. He also needed a way to get out of Midgar. 

Though he had only heard bits and pieces from the complaints and rumors made by the passing and lingering people in the slums, it was enough for him to figure out that transportation in and out of Midgar was strictly regulated. It had been since the beginning of the war, and while some speculated it was to keep enemies spies from entering into their home territory, there were others whispers about escaped experiments from the secret labs underneath some of the undercity sectors. Cloud wouldn’t be surprised if both were the case but either way, he didn’t have the means to get out of Midgar unless they both have passable IDs that could get through Shinra’s scanners. He also didn’t have the means to travel through the wastelands-- not that he couldn’t steal a car or a truck but most are traceable and the rusted ones wouldn’t even last a trip to Kalm. So little options, so little time...

Frankly, everything had been too quiet on their part. No wanted signs, no extra patrols, or maybe even one of Hojo’s sick experiments trying to track them down… Either he was better at subterfuge than he thought (he had come a long way from his days of muscling his way through Shinra’s forces, even if Vincent would like to contradict otherwise), or their security measures weren’t where they were several years later. 

(Cloud liked to think that it had nothing to do with Hojo trying to bide his time with something. And what that something could possibly be? Nothing good, obviously.)

“Why ‘Zack’?”

Cloud startled a bit from his thoughts, hearing the soft, young voice near his ear and when he pulled away from his charge a little in order to look at the child straightforwardly, the young boy sported a solemn expression. 

The blond man blinked, before repeating slow, “Why… Zack?”

“Why did you call me ‘Zack’?” 

( _“Do you want to change my name?”_

_Cloud paused in mid-lift as he was helping Denzel off of his bike, letting the child dangle in the air for a second too long before placing the younger man on the ground. The ex-mercenary had a week off from deliveries, much to the kids’ enthusiasm, and both Marlene and Denzel demanded that he drove them both to the church._

_As soon as he slowed Fenrir down, Marlene practically jumped off the bike and followed the laughter and giggles inside the church. Denzel, for some reason, lingered and waited until Cloud helped him down._

_“I...Change your name?” Cloud nearly sputtered, his voice holding a tinge of disbelief. “Why would I change your name?”_

_Denzel avoided eye contact, looking down at his feet with a small and uncomfortable frown on his face, probably feeling as awkward as his adopted parent. It looked too much like how the older man would brood when he was having one of his off days-- rarer now than they were a couple of years ago, during the Geostigma blight, but still there._

_Cloud could practically hear Tifa’s voice: What a pair they made. She often teased that the young boy took after Cloud more than anyone else. Though it was probably supposed to be something complimentary, he rarely had good thoughts about himself. If there were to be a better role model for Denzel, it would be Barrett. And Tifa. Or Nanaki. Gaia, Cid would probably make a better role model than him._

_“You...Tifa and you talked about…”_

_Immediately, Cloud knew what Denzel was referring to; after all, the conversation he had with Tifa happened just last night._

_He came back late from his last delivery and found the bar-counter lights still on. He wasn’t sure what had triggered it but Tifa was in one of her moods. The quiet ones where she would sit alone on the stool, a small glass of something strong in her hand, but she would never drink herself drunk. Some nights, she would get somewhere close to tipsy, and usually, she would end it right there… However, in the too early hours of the morning, she asked Cloud to take a seat with her._

_He didn’t refuse the offer, because even Tifa had moments where she wanted to be alone, and these late nights were often her moments. But she obviously didn’t want to be alone right now. They both knew Cloud was shitty company in normal hours and definitely not any better in later hours, but he was a good soundboard, at the very least._

_The topics were sporadic-- the most notable were Reeve’s and Barrett’s attempt to jump-start Edge’s education system, Rufus’ and the Turks' role in the Renewing the Green Project, Cid’s and Shera’s growing empire of air travel, and Yuffie encouraging -i.e. ordering- more research in towards materia and magitech in Wutai. Then about an hour or two later, the discussion turned into something more personal._

_“I think I would like a little girl named Aerith,” Tifa had told him somberly, her cheek resting on the knuckles of her hand as she stared ahead at nothing. “Would… would that be insensitive? Or rather cruel for the girl? But Aerith’s name is very pretty…”_

_“... I think Aerith would be flattered.” And happy. It was a unique name. Maybe of Cetra origins. She would want something of her people, of her culture maybe, to be passed along. “The child… if we give them her name, it’s because they are someone to love. Like how Aerith is loved.”_

_He remembered Tifa blinking her bleary eyes at him, surprised by the answer. He almost mirrored her expression because he was surprised as well._

_“That’s…” She shook her head and a smile finally bloomed on her lips. “In that case, maybe Brian, for a boy.” Brian was the name of Tifa’s father. While Cloud rarely had any good memories of the late Lockhart, or any memories period, he knew that his death was more than just a sore spot for his childhood friend._

_“... I like Zack,” was his only contribution to the subject._

_They retired half an hour after Tifa had made a list of names for her future children (and if more than half of them belong to friends and family long dead, sent to the lifestream too early, too young, Cloud was the last person to comment on it). He wasn’t sure why Denzel was up that late or up that early…_

_“Why were you up so late?” Cloud wondered out loud as he kneeled down to the young boy’s height, which seemed to be growing an inch every month under Tifa’s efforts._

_“I was thirsty. And Marlene snores.”_

_“No I don’t!” she protested from somewhere in the church, somehow narrowing into their conversation._

_While Cloud was amused by the banter, Denzel seemed intent on ignoring his sister’s comment, his blue eyes meeting the older man’s own. “Do you want to change my name?”_

_“Denzel…” Cloud uttered his name under his breath, his heart aching with a fondness for the boy. “Why would I change your name? It’s your name.”_

_The young boy bit the bottom of his lip, averting his gaze once again. “Pipa… When Pipa got adopted, they changed her name.”_

_It took a couple of seconds for Cloud to remember who Pipa was-- now named Jennie. A lot of the kids still call her Pipa though and neither her nor her parents seemed to mind it. “That’s because-- she wanted Mr. and Mrs. Nathers to give her a name.” As far as the older man knew, Pipa -Jennie- didn’t remember who her birth parents were. Nor did she remember if they gave her a name. She just had always been called ‘Pipa’ by her friends for no reason or rhyme. “Do… do you want me to give you a name?”_

_A long silence stretched out between them with only the noisy children inside the church as their buffer from the rising tension. Finally, Denzel shook his head and Cloud wasn’t surprised by the answer._

_There was nothing wrong with Denzel’s name and the ex-mercenary hoped he never had implied it in any other way. It was a name given by the boy’s parents and no matter how much Cloud cared for the child, he was no substitute for the couple that once dearly loved the incredible and brave youth in front of him._

_Regardless, the blond felt rather confused now. If the young brunet didn’t want his name to be changed, then why brought it up at all? He thought back to their conversation, and then his conversation with Tifa, and suddenly, he had a heart-wrenching epiphany._

_“Denzel we…” Cloud carefully placed a hand on the other’s thin shoulders and another one grabbing the child’s tiny, fragile hand. “Tifa and I… Just because we… We don’t love you any less even if your name isn’t given by us.” The slight flinch he could feel from the youth’s small shoulder and the way the boy squeezed his hand as if afraid that his guardian would suddenly pull away caused a large ball of emotions to erupt from the older man’s chest. He squeezed the hand back, hoping to send some reassurance through their physical touch. “I… We love you as you are. You don’t need to change anything for us.”_

_“That’s what I said!” Marlene commented as if she wasn’t eavesdropping into their conversation near the church’s door. Cloud huffed a breath out of amusement while Denzel couldn’t hold an eyeroll._

_“Go away, Marlene!” Denzel yelled back, which earned him a stuck-out tongue when she peeked her head out from behind the double doors._

_“You ain’t the boss of me!” was the childish response before she ran off deeper into the church, her long braid whipping behind as her pink bow bounced at the sudden movement. The corners of Cloud’s lips twitched upwards-- it was a bit too similar to how Barrett would respond to him whenever the large man heard something he didn’t like._

_Soon after she had disappeared, Denzel made an interesting combination of a groan and an exasperated sigh, and regardless of their little squabble, Cloud was glad they got along so well. He was glad they had each other. Tifa was the closest he had to a sibling, but even then, their relationship was strained and distant until after the Nibelheim incident. He couldn’t remember if he ever had someone like how Denzel and Marlene had each other. Maybe he would have been jealous over it if he wasn’t more relieved by their comradery._

_With a shake of his head, the older man re-focused them back to the previous topic. “Marlene is right,” he admitted much to Denzel’s indignation. She often was, now that Cloud thought about it. Even so, it didn’t stop the young boy from pouting, even if he did look more bright-eyed and less somber than before._

_At ease, Cloud stood up, releasing the younger’s shoulder but not his hand. They moved together towards the church, Denzel pulling ahead in growing excitement before he gave a slight pause just before the steps._

_“A little brother named Zack would be pretty cool--”_ )

Cloud had to swallow the lump in his throat and closed his eyes to push back the burn behind them.

“I… like the name Zack,” he managed to say without sounding too hoarse about it.

He could feel his charge’s piercing gaze on him without having to look before the little one leaned forward and tucked himself underneath Cloud’s chin. “Okay,” was the small, quiet mumble.

The older man wasn’t sure what the ‘okay’ meant. Was he ‘okay’ with Cloud’s answer to his question? Was he ‘okay’ with being named ‘Zack’ for the time being?

Nonetheless, it seemed that the child had nothing else to say on the matter, and once his heart stopped tearing itself apart and his stomach stopped churning, Cloud continued moving forward, trying not to clutch onto the small body against him as if the young boy was his only tether to reality.

The journey was quiet and relatively short, and by the time they made it back to Undercity Station, the area was significantly less crowded and more open. From there, he didn’t head straight towards the town but the roundabout way hidden behind some construction materials and a few crates. The backstreets were filled with monsters, the aggressive kind that the neighborhood watch wouldn’t be able to handle, and generally avoided by most people in the slums, which made them a perfect place for Don Corneo to hide a good chunk of his stash in. 

Of course, this would only imply if his future knowledge corresponded with his present knowledge. Nonetheless, it didn’t hurt to check it out just in case his (future) memory stayed true, and if it did, then he wouldn’t have to worry about gils for the next few months.

Just as he was about to slip behind a couple of food stands, he heard something fast coming his way, accompanied by a couple of loud ‘kwehs’ that didn’t sound human. He moved to the side, letting a carriage pulled by a bright yellow chocobo run past him. His charge shifted against him, his sharp eyes following the direction of the vehicle which stopped in front of the train station. Watching the chocobo handler jumping out of the driver seat, recognizing the familiar logo on the back of the guy’s leather vest and on the side of the carriage, Cloud was suddenly struck with an idea. The sort of idea which Vincent and Tifa would probably disapprove of while Aerith and Yuffie added more insane suggestions to the overall scheme, but he was in an unconventional situation and it called for unconventional means. Barrett would probably agree with him while Nanaki would be the voice of reason. Too bad he wasn’t here to reason out any of the ex-mercenary’s plans right now.

With a small huff, he lifted ‘Zack’ a little higher and continued to make his way towards the backstreets. After all, nothing spoke more to Wall Market residents than a stack of gills shoved in front of their faces.

\---........---

Cloud had to put Zack down in order to look through Corneo’s chests and caches. There was a lot in this particular location and most of them filled with expensive items such as mega-potions and ethers. While he already had some stocked on his person, it never hurt to have more.

After cleaning out the majority of the Don’s stash, he went to pick up his charge who immediately latched onto his neck and buried his face into his chest. The little one seemed quite comfortable with their position, even though the child was normally skittish about being touched not too long ago. Yes, the young boy would stay close to him, latch onto parts of his clothes, but would gaze at the older man warily if blond ever tried to reach out for him. 

It was a difficult thing for Cloud, not being able to comfort the child through touch. He had always been too curt and blunt to offer any comforting words but for his friends and for the children, he had always tried to at least be _physically_ available. A jostle against shoulders, a hand on an arm, and maybe even fist bump whenever they were in the mood; he never knew how important contact was to him until his most important people were ripped away from him.

He didn’t know what had changed but Zack seemed disinclined to pull away now, and Cloud felt something expand in his chest the longer the small weight settled in his arms.

The ex-mercenary continued to carry the child all the way to the south entrance of Wall Market, taking the alternative route through the collapsed expressway in order to avoid the crowds and people. Resolutely, he avoided looking at the playground and the gate to Sector 7. 

Soon, Cloud saw the familiar stable just right outside of Wall Market with ‘Sam’s Delivery’ displayed on top of the main office building. A few common chocobos were already resting in their pen except for the one hooked up on a gaudy looking carriage parked out front. It warked at them as they came close and the older man could feel his charge shifting in response.

Zack turned his head to look at the warking chocobo, his piercing eyes glowing underneath the shadows of his hood, before moving his gaze over to his guardian. More specifically, his guardian’s hair, which stood up very much like the head-feathers of a bird. It was even worse than usual since their previous accommodations hadn’t included a shower or a bath. The child then turned back towards the large avian who blinked at them with large beady eyes. Then to the blond man. 

Cloud could feel the growing astonishment in their faint connection and tried not to sigh. Someone, in some universe, in some timeline, was probably making a chocobo joke at his expense. 

Nonetheless, he moved closer to the large bird. It was a friendly and curious thing, with bright yellow feathers and a very light-orange beak. The way the beak was shaped made it look as if it was smiling and the bright-dark eyes didn’t diminish that approachable feeling. The chocobo seemed to like people, if only judging by the way it stretched its long neck towards them. 

Immediately Zack bristled, probably perceiving the act as a threat, and the loud but harmless warbling noises it kept making didn’t help ease the boy’s nerves. With the corner of his lips perked up in an almost smile, Cloud moved closer, immediately using a fast hand to clamp the moving beak shut. The chocobo stilled, staring at the face of the human who quieted it, and when the blond moved the avian’s head to nod once, he let go. 

The chocobo made no more sounds but its hyperactiveness could be seen in its eyes. Now his charge was gazing at him with wide eyes as the older man reached over to scratch a spot underneath its chin, causing a low sound to rumble in the large bird’s chest. It shifted closer to them, taking the carriage with it much to Cloud’s amusement, and while trying to keep the avian calm, Cloud watched carefully as Zack moved a tentative hand towards the chocobo’s head.

“Yer sure handy with Lil Rene. She’s usually a spitfire that one.” Though Cloud wasn’t startled by the new presence, Zack turned away and retreated back into the older man’s hold. The ex-mercenary shot the intruding man, who he somewhat recognized as Sam, a rather chastising look. In response, the owner of Sam’s Delivery raised both of his hands in a placating gesture, the string on his cowboy hat dangling as he took a step back from the pair. “Don’t mean ta frighten the little one. Just came ta see if y’all folks have any business around my chocobos.” 

Sam was still as curt as Cloud had remembered, mellowed but rough in his way of speaking, but seeing the younger version of his once acquaintance was rather… astounding, to say at the least. 

The cowboy’s beard wasn’t grown out to its impressive bushy length yet, shaping his chin and jaw to a more youthful appearance. The wrinkles that the ex-mercenary had often seen on the older Sam were minimal around the eyes and forehead, and the leather vest was gone from what the blond assumed to be his uniform. Or maybe dressing up like that was more to his personal taste, which was then imposed on his employees.

Probably miffed at being temporarily ignored, Rene the Chocobo shoved its beak near Zack, who nearly jumped out of Cloud’s arm while making a hissing sound not unlike a ruffled kitten. As his charge climbed higher onto his shoulder, the ex-mercenary once again grabbed the chocobo’s beak, forcing its head down while staring down into the bird’s eyes.

“No,” was the stern reprimand, but Rene seemed to understand nonetheless. She cooed softly, big eyes begging for forgiveness as the large bird backed away to give them some space. Cloud only huffed in response while Zack narrowed his eyes in suspicion. The child squirmed to be let down, his legs flailing only slightly, and when the older man gently placed him on his feet, he hid behind his guardian’s leg, glaring up at the warbling avian who tried her best to look innocent.

Sam couldn’t help but chuckle at the rather playful interaction while Cloud tried to soothe his charge with a soft touch on the shoulder.

“We’re looking for a way out of Midgar,” the ex-mercenary admitted, tossing all forms of subtlety out of the window. “Discreetly.”

“Oh?” the bearded man uttered as he pulled the large hen back by her reins, who squawked in protest but followed nonetheless. 

“I’ve heard you provide such services.”

“Is that so.” The words came out less of a question and more of a statement as Sam side-glanced at the unusual pair with a skeptical gleam in his eyes. “From who?”

“Does it matter?”

The cowboy crossed his arms with a slight tilt of his head, eyeing the other man's subpar clothes and homeless appearance. Funny enough, the kid with him was dressed in better and cleaner clothes. 

Then he examined the blond’s sword, almost as large as its owner and strangely shaped to boot, but it obviously had seen a lot of use. The fact that a small fella like the one in front of him could even lift an inch of that slab of metal should be surprising, but the longer he stared at the shorter man, the more he could read the impossible strength in the other’s shoulders and the great but terrible stories within those open blue eyes. 

Sam lowered his head, his hat hiding the expression on his face. “Sorry to disappoint, but I can’t help you there.”

Cloud narrowed his eyes slightly, finding the response rather unusually… subdued. The cowboy always acted as if customer service was an optional requirement of owning a business. At least Madam M tried to give some courtesy to her customers -as long as they pay well- but Sam didn’t care enough to make nice with his clients. He sure wouldn’t bother being this polite if he didn’t want to help out. 

“Money isn’t the issue.”

“It’s not about the money partner.” Cloud nearly snorted at what he said. In Wall Market, everything was about the money. “This here is a respectable establishment and I don’t take kindly to folks trying to sling mud at my name.” This time, Cloud really did snort out loud. Respectable establishment his ass. It was not as if Chocobo Sam was part of Don Corneo’s crime syndicate or anything.

Just as he was planning on saying something blunt and relatively tactless, then their eyes met-- dark steel against sky blue. The cowboy’s expression was unexpectedly somber as he made a subtle head gesture towards something behind the carriage. Curiously, he followed the direction of the motion, stretching his neck to look beyond the vehicle, before hastily ducking back. The ex-mercenary promptly pulled his charge further away from the chocobo, who squawked at their sudden movement.

Hanging in the corner above Sam’s porch was what Cloud recognized as a Shinra-issued security camera. The blond bit back a curse, one that was definitely not appropriate in front of children and was maybe patented by a certain foul-mouthed mechanic. While his memory tended to be unreliable at best, fickle at worse, he definitely did not recall that being there several years after today. 

Making sure Zack was out of sight, covered by the carriage and the ‘kweh’ing chocobo, he turned back towards the bearded man, who was studying him with a contemplative expression. 

Sam reached over to Rene, giving her neck a few pats and her chin a short scratch before feeding the hen something in the palm of his hand. The chocobo took it easily into her beak but didn’t swallow the treat for some reason. 

“Maybe you should visit the Honey Bee Inn,” the chocobo handler mentioned deliberately. “Might improve your mood somewhat.” He clicked his tongue twice and the large hen perked up in response. Rene turned towards the pair with bright and mischievous eyes, her head feathers bobbing as she suddenly thrust her beak into Cloud’s chest. The blond man sputtered, trying to put some distance between him and the avian by pushing the beak away with his hand, but felt something drop into his palm. 

The chocobo backed away immediately and when the ex-mercenary looked down, he saw a familiar coin in his grasp. It was the same bit of metal Sam always seemed to have on hand, the imprint of the chocobo’s head more familiar by touch rather than by sight. 

Cloud raised his gaze back to his old (new?) acquaintance, who readjusted his hat further away from his face. 

“Reckon if you ever need a ride--” A business card flipped out between Sam’s fingers, held towards the other man within reaching distance. “--y’all know where ta stables are.”

With a raised eyebrow, the gesture mostly hidden beneath his bandana, Cloud tentatively took the card without a word. As he examined the item, he noticed that rather than a business card, it looked more like a membership’s card… to the Honey Bee Inn. A gold, VIP membership card, according to the bolded words printed across the piece of plastic. 

“...Thanks,” was all he could give to the man, unsure how to respond to the unexpected… gift. He was given such a thing, once, by Andrea when the man finally settled into the Gold Saucer after the destruction of Midgar and… never really used it. He didn’t even remember if he had thrown it away or gave it away to someone else. It was not as if no one would recognize him as soon as he entered the lobby… In fact, he probably should be more concerned about how well the employees recognized him.

Regardless, Sam went back into his office with a passing pat on Rene’s beak. He gave a curt ‘enjoy,’ obviously brushing them off as someone else’s problem and disappeared behind the wooden door.

Cloud stood in place for a long minute, looking at the VIP card with clear suspicion before heaving out a heavy sigh and shoving the damned thing in one of his many pockets.

No one in Wall Market would just give away ‘valuable’ things without a cause. Without a catch. If he hadn’t known Sam for as long as he did (and remembered his soft fondness for his chocobo. And for small children playing with his chocobos. And for Madam M without her extravagant kimono, wearing jeans and a buttoned-up shirt of all things, preening his chocobo with strong but gentle fingers as the cowboy looked at her with something close to tenderness and warmth), he would have tossed the card into the gutter. Instead, Cloud kept Zack close to his side but blocked from the security camera’s view as he strolled through Wall Market’s south entrance. 

Wall Market was a short but memorable adventure the last time he had been here. The streets were full of twisting pathways and hidden corners, and Cloud remembered getting lost a few times trying to find Honey Bee Inn only for Aerith to drag his disorientated ass to their lobby. While the nights were wild and untamed, Sector 6 Slums during the day time were only _slightly_ more subdued. Regardless of either time, both were always full of people looking for a good time or to spend some gils in the many shops and stores crowded together within the walls.

That much hadn’t changed so far that Cloud could determine, but there was an underlying tension that wasn’t present several years later. Notably, a lot of the Wutainese stores he had seen during his time were either shuttered closed or… vandalized, it would seem. The ramen hole-in-the-wall restaurant he remembered only getting a glimpse at had its paper doors either covered with spray paint or ripped apart by what looked to be a very crude bat. A store, what he once recalled as a small Wutainese trinket store, located just next to the pharmacy, was in an even worse state. The windows were shattered, some of the items inside looked to be destroyed, and the ex-mercenary spotted some dry blood on the ground.

With a grimace, he hurried Zack along past them, taking the long, but open and public, streets towards the Honey Bee Inn rather than the shortcuts through the alleys. Anti-Wutai sentiments had always been present in Midgar. In fact, there was a lot of prejudice against immigrants, especially those traveling from the West Continent, and most ended up living or making a living in the slums. Nevertheless, the longer the war continued, the more resentment rose against the people of Wutai. Sector 6 Undercity housed the largest Wutainese population in Midgar and they weren’t even safe in their own community.

Thankfully, Wall Market was not big and the Honey Bee Inn was soon in view after taking a couple of stairs down from the main area. It was just as glitzy and brazen as he had remembered; though in the daylight, the glamour was significantly muted and it appeared more like a regular hotel than a place for debauchery and burlesque dancing.

There were more people coming out from the front entrance than coming in. Some that were obviously hungover while others looked very regretful of their life’s choices. A few more walked out as if they owned the streets, probably regulars that visited the inn more often than most people would have liked to admit.

Near the inn’s neon sign, Cloud saw another one of Shinra’s security cameras and automatically readjust the hood over his charge’s hair to further hide him from view before entering into the building. 

The lobby had a very different atmosphere in the daytime. At night, there were a lot of subtle shadows and mood lighting to set a rather sensual and alluring ambiance to the rooms. He remembered seeing many honeyboys and girls fluttering around, giving the new and returning customers an inviting glance and a bewitching smile. (Though he was never the target of such gazes even if a lot of Andrea’s boys and girls took too much pleasure in making him blush -and dressing him up much to his dismay- but rarely tried to approach him without their star present to soften Cloud’s brusque personality).

Now, the lobby was much brighter to where Cloud could actually see the patterns on the wallpaper and there was only the receptionist on shift. Much to the blond’s surprise, it was a familiar, but younger face. 

“Welcome to the Heart and Soul of Wall Market-- The Honey Bee Inn,” the receptionist ( _Chris,_ he once told him in the far future) greeted with a welcoming, business-like smile. He lacked the small pompadour he sported several years later, displaying a short set of curls instead, and his 5 o’clock shadow. “How can I be of service to you?”

Either because the daytime script was different or because he came in with a young child clinging onto his pant legs, Chris didn’t ask whether he wanted a honeyboy or girl and Cloud was somewhat grateful for it. Because while Zack was sheltered and young, he was also a bit too intuitive and curious and the ex-mercenary was not ready for that conversation with _anyone_. Much less with his archnemesis’ progeny. 

Reluctantly, he pulled out the VIP card and placed it on the counter. Chris eyed the card as he took it. Then eyed Cloud with something that the ex-mercenary could recognize as skepticism. Then when he glanced down at Zack, the curly-haired receptionist began to look somewhat concerned.

“Ah, thank you for coming back sir,” he announced in a tone that was both pleasant and judgemental. “Would you like two rooms? One for you and one for the, ah, your son?”

Cloud vehemently ignored the implication in that statement, because only members who frequent the Honey Bee Inn would earn such a card, before basically slamming Sam’s stupid coin onto the desk. “The Honey Bee Inn was recommended to me by Chocobo Sam,” he nearly spat, forcing the rising blush to not make an appearance on his face.

It was only because Chris had yet to have grown into the unflappable man Cloud often interacted with during his visits to the Honey Bee Inn Gold Saucer version (delivering another one of Andrea’s purchases that he seemed to be ordering every month) that the blond noticed the subtle signs of recognition on his expression before his shoulders drooped slightly in relief. 

“Excellent,” the receptionist said with a lot more cheer and enthusiasm than before. “Let me informed Mr. Rhodea of your arrival. He will be thrilled to keep you company.”

“What?”

Chris didn’t seem to notice Cloud’s bewilderment as he reached for the telephone placed on the other side of the cash register. He placed the handset near his ear and dialed a set of five numbers that the ex-mercenary couldn’t see. 

Cloud didn’t need enhanced hearing to hear Andrea’s surprisingly curt ‘what is it’, which the receptionist took to stride and answered with a sunny, “There are a couple of cuties who are here to see you.” Chris peeked down at the little one over the counter with a friendly smile, and Zack, who was examining every corner of the lobby with a sense of wariness and curiosity, lowered his head down and hid behind his guardian’s leg. “They’re here under Chocobo Sam’s recommendation.”

The star of the Honey Bee Inn seemed to perk up immediately, his deep voice an octave higher in his excitement. _“Well, bring them up!”_

“Of course, Mr. Rhodea.” Though Chris’ voice was unwavering and perfectly well-mannered, only Cloud could see the glint of mischievous in his spring-green eyes. It reminded him so much of the time when Aerith somehow talked him into wearing a dress that both nostalgia and dread filled his whole body. 

Before he could rethink his decision in following Sam’s suggestion, Chris hung up and rang the concierge bell twice. A young man in a honeyboy suit popped out from back doors, his preppy expression faltering only slightly once he noticed the little boy clutching onto his unamused guardian. 

“Mav,” the receptionist called out, gesturing to the blond man and the attached child. “Please take our two guests to Mr. Rhodea.” 

Immediately, Mav’s mouth rounded to a silent ‘oh’ before fixing his manner to something more pleasing. “Of course. Right this way, sirs.” The honeyboy held a hand out towards the stairs and while Cloud had a moment of reluctance, he knew that Sam wouldn’t have led him astray… probably. Maybe. 

With a comforting hand on top of Zack’s hood, who looked up at him with glowing green eyes, he followed Mav upstairs where he knew the suites were located. The hallways were surprisingly spacious, though the number of rooms seemed limited, so it wasn’t long until they made it to the end of the corridor and to another set of stairs that probably led to Andrea’s own private apartments.

As they climbed up the last steps onto the third floor, the hallway was noticeably dim and full of softly glowing lights, reminiscent of the Honey Bee Inn during the night time but much more empty and quiet. They stopped in front of a set of elaborate double doors when Mav turned around and gave Cloud a critical look. 

“Your bandana. Take it off.”

“What?” Cloud blurted, a little taken back by the command.

“Well, I can’t allow you to see Mr. Rhodea looking like _that_.”

Like what? What was wrong with the way he looked? Sure, he knew that he gave off a rather… homeless appearance, but would taking off his bandana make that much of a difference?

Nonetheless, since the dim lighting made it difficult to hide the glow in his eyes anyway, he pulled his bandana off though not without a scowl on his face. As soon as he did, Mav’s eyes widened as if he had somehow grown another head near his neck. Or maybe the honeyboy noticed his mako-glint and was rethinking his impression of him. 

“And--and your jacket!” he added a little bit too abruptly, causing Cloud to blink. He did wear a jacket to hide his physique, though most people would be clued in by the large sword attached to his back, but after a long staredown between him and the honeyboy, he reluctantly took that off too. He had to awkwardly place First Tsurugi against the wall in order to do so, but Mav seemed very satisfied once he did.

“Perfect!” the honeyboy gushed, with the same evil and mischievous glint he saw in Chris’ own eyes. Cloud wondered if he should’ve taken his charge and made a break for it.

Unfortunately, before he came to a decision, Mav pulled open the double doors with an extravagant flair. 

Beyond the doors was a foyer with a large, marble staircase framed by intricate gold railings, and at the bottom of steps were two red-velvet chairs. The honeyboy led them to those seats with a suspicious skip in his stride and Cloud followed with a bit of reluctance. The lights were even dimmer than they were out in the hallway but the ex-mercenary didn’t have any trouble moving around the room despite the low visibility. 

As they walked closer to their chairs, Mav began to literally vibrate in excitement, patting the upholstered backs with a grin that forebode someone’s embarrassment. Hopefully, not his. Tentatively, Cloud sat down on the seat to the left, placing the fusion sword to the side, and instead of doing the same on the right, Zack persistently stayed near his guardian while transferring the grip on his pants to his short sleeves instead. Without thinking much about it, the older man pulled his charge onto his lap, tensing whenever the boy had tense. But soon, the little one settled against the ex-mercenary with a soft sigh, twisting around so that he could bury his face against the other’s chest. 

Something expanded in between Cloud’s lungs and heart once again.

Mav cooed at their coziness. “Please enjoy the show!”

“...What?” Cloud asked a bit too late before everything went dark. 

_“Underneath the city lights,_

_there is a WORLD few know about.”_

A deep, soulful voice echoed through the room, and from a balcony to the right, a spotlight shone among the darkness. A woman, sporting dark-red lips and a shimmering-gold and black dress designed with a deep neckline and a short cut, caressed a silver microphone while pulling the stand close to her curvy body.

_“Where rules don’t apply, no._

_And you can’t keep a good girl down-own-own.”_

Lights exploded as the brass band blared, flashing off and on around the stairs in a plethora of colors and both Cloud and Zack watched with wide eyes as waterfalls of fog poured from the top, down the steps, and through the railings. From the sides, two lines of honeygirls strut out along with the beat, their stingers bouncing with each step as they snapped their fingers in rhythm. 

_“She goin’ through the club lookin’ for a good time,_

_Gonna make that, shake that, money on a dime,_

_Don’t need a sugar daddy, she can work it just fine.”_

A couple of spotlights beamed down to the stage-like tables placed on either side of the staircase, the honeygirls dancing on the surface around golden poles with surprising vigor and an incredible show of athleticism. 

_“Up on the table she’ll be dancin’ all night.”_

The singer followed their movements with a thrust of her hips and a leg wrapped around the microphone stand, bending down to display her full chest.

_“Yea-ea-eah,_

_(Wow-o-o)_

_Baby doll just comes alive._

_(Wow-o-o)_

_Under the spotlight!_

_(Wow-o-o)_

_All the girls wanna fall in line.”_

The chorus was harmonious, teasing, and full of energy, and the costumes, more shimmery and less streamlined from how Cloud had remembered them, sparkled under the bright lights, accentuating certain curves and places on the body.

It took him too long to remember that the display of shiny skin and gyrating bodies was not really appropriate for children under the age of 16. Shutting his hanging mouth with a painful snap, he covered Zack’s eyes out of panic and apologized when the boy made a disgruntled sound. 

_“We say,_

_Hey-ey-ey-ey._

_(Here come the ladies about to give a little show.)”_

Cloud felt rather than saw the lift at the top of the stairs, the mechanism vibrating underneath his feet, and a group of honeyboys appeared with Andrea Rhodea in the center. Dressed up in tight, black pants with sparkling gold stripes to the side, a tiny black vest that left little to the imagination and a fedora obscuring parts of his face but not the sensual smirk gracing his lips.

_“Hey-ey-ey-ey._

_(Here come the boys, we gonna to show a little more. More... more...)”_

Both honeyboys and girls descended down the stairs step by step with each gyrate of their hips. The singer began sashaying towards the group with the stand abandoned and the silver microphone in her hand, no less energetic from the rest of the dancers as her waist swayed nice and deep. Along with her own dynamic and zestful vocals was joined a male’s and Cloud’s eyes widened even further when Andrea started belting out high notes.

_“Hit it up, get it up, (won’t let you rest)._

_Hit it up, get it up, (this is not a test)._

_Hit it up, get it up, (gotta give me your best)._

_So get your ass up, show me how you burlesque!”_

The group collectively pumped each of their arms up every time both the diva and Andrea sang ‘hit it up, get it up’. 

_“Hit it up, get it up, (won’t let you rest)._

_Hit it up, get it up, (this is not a test)._

_Hit it up, get it up, (gotta give me your best)._

_So get your ass up, show me how you burlesque!”_

Andrea shimmied closer towards his audience, bending down and snapping up in a lively manner with a hand on his fedora as his honeyboys and girls flitted to the side, hands on the railing and their behinds perking up suggestively. The band blared from somewhere in the room, the star of the show swaggered down the marble steps while finally making eye contact with his guest, wide, bright blues against coquettish, lively greys. Of course, the beautiful, jewel-like orbs were not the only thing that the handsome dancer noticed-- it was hard to miss the child sitting cozily in the blond man’s lap even as the little one’s sight was covered for obvious reasons.

Nearly tripping over his high platform shoes, he immediately shot both of his hands out to the side and bellowed out, “CUT!” 

The dancer stumbled to a stop and the band petered out with a farting noise from one of the brass instruments. Suddenly, all the lights were switched on and Cloud had to close his eyes due to the sudden change in brightness. Zack started to squirm once the music stopped and the older man had no choice but to finally let his charge go, who blinked a few times before looking up at the group of people standing awkwardly on the staircase.

With a hand on his forehead, Andrea heaved a rather dramatic but put-out sigh. “Robe,” he demanded with a snap of his fingers. A honeygirl from the back of the group moved forward to help their star put on a black, fur-lined robe. “Phone,” he demanded next and in a split second, a honeyboy placed a smartphone into the palm of his hand.

Andrea pressed one button and with Cloud’s enhanced hearing, he could hear Chris answering by the first ring.

 _“Aren’t they cute?”_ was Chris’ innocent greeting, which Andrea didn’t answer immediately. He inspected both man and child with a critical eye, mostly lingering at Cloud’s face and his arms.

Rolling his shoulders and rotating his neck, the flamboyant man responded to the question while massaging the area between his manicured brows. “They are-- but you told me they were under Sam’s recommendation?”

 _“Yes,”_ the receptionist admitted. _“Mr. Chocobo gave him one of his coins.”_

Andrea froze for half a second at the new information before groaning, turning away from his guests in an exasperated manner as he questioned, “And you couldn’t have told me that first?”

_“He’s much better than Mr. Beau. Your type to the T.”_

“He has a _child_.”

_“All the more better I would think. You love children.”_

With unnecessary force to the red button on the screen, he ended the call and took a deep breath. Cloud and Zack could only sit in their seats and wait for the final verdict.

Then with two claps, Andrea gathered the attention of his dancers and crew. “Alright, good work everyone!” he started with hands on his waist and a sharp jut of his hips. “But show’s over and all of you need to get back to your respective rooms and homes.”

The collective groans and whines were a bit surprising to Cloud, though he did recall somewhere in the middle of the performance that many of the dancers actually did look as if they were enjoying themselves.

“Oh come on Andy,” one honeygirl in the front whined, though there was a teasing smile on her face. “We can continue the show. We just need to make things a bit more PG, right?”

Andrea only smiled in response while giggles from both the honeygirls and boys fluttered in the air, making the atmosphere light and friendly. “That may be but you all have worked hard during last night’s show. And have other businesses with these gentlemen here.”

“‘Other businesses’, Andy?” a honeyboy this time voiced out as immature ‘Ooo’s and giggles chorused from the group.

“Nosy bees, off with you lot! We have a show at 9 o’clock sharp and I need all of you to be in top form!”

‘Yes, Andy!’ echoed throughout the room as everyone began scattering out of the room except for a brunette, the singer of the entire arrangement, in all of her glamorous, glitzy glory. She strutted down the stairs towards Andrea and took his hand when he reached for her. 

“Mimi,” he called out affectionately as she kissed both his cheeks and reciprocated in the same manner. “You’re amazing, as always.” Her red lips curved into a smile but didn’t reply back. Andrea didn’t seem bothered by her silence despite the power of her voice when she sang. “Rest your throat and I will see in a couple of nights.”

With a tender pat on her hand, he had one of the honeygirls lead her out of his private quarters and soon, the foyer was empty with only just Cloud, Zack, and the star of the Honey Bee Inn to fill its space.

In between Andrea’s closing speech and the farewells, Cloud took the time to check up on his charge, who seemed… done, with everything really. The young boy had long turned around to bury himself deeper into the blond’s lap, his face now hidden in the junction between his guardian’s shoulder and chest. Well, it had been a long day after all and they had been moving from places to places with barely any breaks in between since the early mornings. Zack must be hungry by now.

This was how Andrea found them, with the blond asking the child quietly whether he was hungry, and when the young boy only shook his head in response against his caretaker’s shirt, the older man frowned out of worry.

“I’ll call the front desk to bring us some lunch,” the flamboyant man offered, strolling down the staircase towards the pair. 

Cloud snapped his gaze up at his old (new?) acquaintance before shaking his head. “You don’t need to--”

“I insist,” Andrea argued, stopping in front of them while crossing his arms out of contemplation. “But I must ask-- what reason have you come to me today?”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Andrea Rhodea and _Show Me How You Burlesque_ by Christina Aguilera together are a god-tier combination. 
> 
> Also, I religiously appreciate all other FF7 characters that are not our main cast.


	3. It’s Not the Dress that Makes You Pretty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cloud’s crossdressing days came back to haunt him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The japanese is google-translated and by no means accurate. Google-sensei tried his best. Please ignore it if it bothers you guys a lot.

“You see, Sam has this cute new stablehand. Goes by Beau and my…” Andrea sighed rather forlornly. “You should have seen the way he lifted those chocobos with just the strength of his biceps alone. I wouldn’t mind if he came at me with those muscles of his and shove me up against the wall--”

“PG,” Cloud deadpanned for the umpteenth time in their conversation, brushing back Zack’s hair behind his ear to keep it from falling onto his face. 

The ordered lunch came promptly and filled the small table from corner to corner. There were many dishes to choose from, but Cloud only ate a bite or two before putting the rest aside. He was not sure if it was the same for other SOLDIERs but unless he had a reason to use his energy and mana, his enhancement made it to where he only needed to eat a small meal once a day. Of course, that didn’t mean he couldn’t eat regularly like unenhanced people, but considering their fugitive status, it was probably better to save some of these dishes for another day.

Zack, on the other hand, ate his plate of chocobo strips and mac n’cheese in a very slow but careful manner. Still refusing to be separated from his guardian, Cloud had no choice but to prop the child onto his lap, but there weren’t any chairs tall enough to let the boy reach above the table anyway, so it all worked out.

Andrea cleared his throat, his expression rather sheepish. “Yes, well. I’ve asked my old friend for an introduction.”

“...And he agreed?” Cloud asked rather skeptically because while he knew that Sam and Andrea were good friends, the Chocobo handler seemed very disinclined to get involved with anyone’s business. Much less romance business.

“No,” the flamboyant man admitted with a pout, taking a bite of the olive from his salad. “He told me, and I quote, that he ‘can’t afford havin’ another one of his stablemen running off to the hills’. Honestly, the nerve!”

“Then why were you under the assumption that we’re from Chocobo Sam in _that_ way?”

“That man changes his mind as often as a production of _Loveless_ pops up,” he hmmped, stabbing a cherry tomato with his fork in a petulant manner. “Besides, I’ve seen Beau around the Honey Bee Inn before. There’s a chance he has seen one of my shows and taken an interest in me.”

“... Uh-huh,” the ex-mercenary uttered in a tone so dry that the Wasteland surrounding Midgar seemed more humid in comparison. 

Ignoring the other’s indignant expression, Cloud looked down at his charge, who was slowly chewing his food with a rather strange, unknown emotion on his face. Every time he moved his spoon or his fork to his mouth, his eyebrows would scrunch together and his small nose would crinkle.

“Does it taste good?” Cloud couldn’t help but ask the child and Zack froze in response. After a moment, the young boy started chewing again before swallowing whatever was left in his mouth.

“It’s adequate,” was the little one’s assessment, apparently. Which honestly did not sound very positive to anyone’s ears, and if it wasn’t for the flashes of wonderment faintly sparking in between their muffled connection every time the child took a bite of his food, Cloud would have thought Zack disliked the meal altogether.

Somewhat amused, the blond man reached over to the juice box left by Chris (who had come in to drop off their lunch with a wink and a couple of wiggling eyebrows towards Andrea) and used the attached straw to pierce into the carton. “Want to try some dumb apple juice?”

Zack blinked once but didn’t protest as his guardian moved the straw closer to his mouth. The young boy extended his neck slightly to take a small sip before making that same, scrunched-up face again. Cloud gave his charge the juice box and while the child didn’t exactly scramble to grab it, he kept the beverage close to his chest and the straw in his mouth, drinking at a snail’s pace while only swallowing every half minute or so.

The ex-mercenary couldn’t help but chuckle as the little one leaned back against his chest, his half-lidded eyes betraying some of his contentedness, and when he looked up from the child to continue his conversation with his flamboyant acquaintance, he saw Andrea gazing at Zack with a fond and tender expression. 

Then the star of the Honey Bee Inn noticed his older guest’s unabashed stare and their eyes met briefly. Probably out of embarrassment for being caught, Andrea looked away while clearing his throat. “On that note, while I do enjoy your company, I must ask what brings you both down here to my humble inn.”

Cloud didn’t answer immediately. First, he brought Zack’s plate closer and started cutting the chocobo strips into smaller pieces. Afterward, he used a fork to dip one in the white sauce left to the side, making sure it wouldn’t drip before bringing it closer to his charge. 

Since he had been eating the strips rather plainly, Zack looked at the offered food with curiosity before temporarily abandoning his drink to take a bite. Though his expression stayed dispassionate, a small, nearly inaudible sound of surprise escaped from the child, and when Cloud fed him once more after the boy finally stopped chewing, he willingly opened his mouth, not unlike hungry chocobo chicks during their mealtime. 

His stiff facial muscle managed to twitch itself into a smile before finally responding to Andrea. “I asked Chocobo Sam whether he had a discreet way out of Midgar. Pass Shinra’s checks.” There were no tell-signs of hidden cameras in Andrea’s private quarters. Nor were they any bugs that he could hear with his sensitive ears. So he didn’t have a problem with laying everything out in the open just as he did with Sam, even if he could hear Tifa, Nanaki, _and_ Vincent sighing somewhere in the background. 

The following silence was unexpected, considering the man’s chatty nature, and when Cloud turned his attention back to the other, he found Andrea in an unusual daze, staring at his face with a seemingly hazy expression. The blond frowned out of confusion, shifting his gaze down and then around his immediate area. He didn’t see what had his acquaintance so distracted.

Cloud looked at Andrea once more, who basically jumped out of his seat when they made eye contact. He cleared his throat three times, his vocals strangely high for his voice. 

“Yes, well,” he _squeaked_ , causing Cloud to blink once with wide eyes. Knowing Andrea (or rather, his future-self) as long as he did, he dared say that the star of the stage, the heart and soul of the most open-minded establishment in all of Midgar, was _nervous_ . But the ex-mercenary couldn’t comprehend why the man who had the confidence to open a burlesque theater _and_ become the star of said theater would ever be nervous. “I… might have an idea why he sent you my way.”

Cloud saw the way Andrea’s smokey-grey eyes moved towards First Tsurugi, which was placed rather delicately against their dining table. 

“...I don’t take hits,” he declared but implied that everything else could be negotiated. He had tried very hard after everything, for the children, to not needlessly take lives. They had already seen so much death and they didn’t need to see more by his hands.

“No, no, no. Nothing like that. Maybe,” the other admitted while shimmying to a more business-like composure. “By the way, you’re not Wutainese, correct?”

The blond blinked, baffled by the sudden question. “...No.”

“Hmm… then how did you hear of us?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he said, rather than ‘I don’t understand what you mean’ because that would probably lead to more questions that Cloud did not really have answers to. Not sane ones, that is. 

“A man of loyalty, hm?” Andrea stroked the short, groomed stubble of his chin while crossing his long legs. “No matter, but the waterways were sealed shut by Shinra so I’m afraid you came all the way here for nothing.”

Cloud was completely lost by the other’s statement, his expression blank of understanding until he took the moment to piece together the puzzle unknowingly laid out in front of him. The strict monitoring around Wall Market, the vandalized Wutainese stores, and the hints presented in their conversation— were the trio smuggling the Wutainese out of Midgar? Or at least Andrea and Sam were involved, but usually Madam M was not far behind when it came to these two (strangely, being the voice of reason in their group).

With a slight tinge of disbelief, he questioned, “You sneaked the Wutainese out from the sewers? What of the monsters? The sahagins are notoriously territorial and aggressive.”

Andrea winced in response, obviously aware of the dangers of the waterways. “We did our best to clear as many monsters as we could and avoid the areas known to house the sahagins. There are runners to escort the escapees--” He shook his head and sighed, looking just as weary as he did when Cloud first saw him after Meteorfall in the ruins of Midgar. “Regardless, Shinra is now keeping a closer eye on the Wutainese community and the sewage systems. It’ll be like this for an indefinite amount of time, so if you need an easy way to escape from Shinra, then you’re out of luck.”

Cloud paused, considering his next words very carefully as he gave his acquaintance a hard, frosty glance. “What… makes you think Shinra is involved?” 

“What aren’t they involved in, nowadays?” the other scoffed as he sat up from his leisure posture. “And certainly…” Andrea leaned closer, unaffected by the ex-mercenary’s frigid eyes as his face stopped only a few inches away from the blond's nose. “We occasionally get visits from desperate deserters who have nowhere to go: office workers, infantrymen, and even a researcher at one point. But... never a SOLDIER.”

Realizing that the flamboyant man was looking at his mako-glowing eyes in full display, he averted his gaze but it was already too late.

“Now now, no need for that,” Andrea tutted, moving back to his seat with a huff. “You’ll be surprised by how many SOLDIERs came to be entertained at my inn. Though they never had eyes as bright as yours.” Both of them deliberately did not look down at Zack who was still busy with his dumb apple juice, acknowledging that the child’s just-as-bright eyes would not be mentioned at all. Cloud found himself slightly grateful for the other’s tact.

Regardless it didn’t change the fact that Wall Market was a dead end. To think that his craziest idea (because getting involved with the trio and Wall Market was not the epitome of good ideas) did not work out as he thought it would. After all, Don Corneo and his subordinates were prominent figures in Midgar’s underworld and if anyone knew a way out of the city without alerting the entirety of Shinra, it would be them. Then again, these types of things only worked well with his Aerith, who took Wall Market’s _everything_ like a zolom in a swamp. 

“Then we won't bother you any further.” Though they didn’t plan on leaving until Zack finished his dumb apple juice, which seemed to be only halfway done. Cloud eyed the dishes, wondering if he could get away with packing them all in a bag.

“Hold on,” Andrea intercepted, holding a manicured hand up. “Like I said, while we don’t have an easy way out of Midgar, that doesn’t mean we don’t have another way.” Cloud gave the other a skeptical glance. If going through the monster-filled sewers was considered the easy route, then what in Gaia did the flamboyant man consider the not-easy way?

Either way, Andrea continued on as if he didn’t see the other man’s rather dubious expression, crossing his fingers together with his elbows perched on the chair’s sidearms. “Tell me, do you know of Don Corneo?”

The ex-mercenary couldn’t help but scowl at the mention of the pathetic excuse of a pig. Don Corneo was a weak and depraved man whose ego was as big as his jiggling belly, but perhaps that was what made him perfect as a pawn in Shinra’s overall grand scheme. As one of the few places in the slums frequently visited by plate residents and one of the most lawless areas in Midgar, Wall Market was a place of intrigue and secrets which Shinra obviously wanted some control over.

“What about him?” Cloud asked rather tersely, reminded of another lifetime where his dealings with the Don only got progressively worse after their first meeting. Or rather, his bad impression of Corneo went from disgusted to downright detest after the stunt he pulled in Wutai. 

Andrea raised an eyebrow at the hostile behavior. “I supposed his reputation precedes itself.”

The ex-mercenary did not agree or disagree but the frost in his bright eyes was more telling than he could have said. 

The flamboyant man decided not to tarry any longer on the subject, his expression hardening into something grimmer. “Then I’m sure you have heard about his nightly bride business,” Andrea began with a careful watch of the blond’s reaction. 

“...You’re part of that business.” It was less of an accusation and more of a statement. Regardless of Cloud’s seemingly lack of judgment, the other looked away for a moment, stormy-grey eyes filled with conflict.

“Yes, well… I try choosing the girls that are willing to spend a night or two with the Don. While he’s not that most handsome bachelor in Wall Market, he did tend to spoil his chosen one lavishly. Not to mention that his kinks are mild with a lot of smack and dirty talk--”

“PG,” Cloud warned once again and tried not to let the mortification show on his face because as someone who had once been picked as Corneo’s bride and dragged into his ostentatiously decorated bedroom, he really did not want to know how the Don acts in bed.

Andrea cleared in his throat, looking rather chastised as they both looked down at Zack who finally finished his carton of juice. Silently, the boy leaned over to place the empty juice box on the table while Cloud grabbed the fork to feed his charge the rest of his chocobo strips. The image of a blank-faced man offering pieces of food to a blank-faced young boy who looked up at his guardian with wide, bright eyes was terribly cute.

“Anyway--” Andrea continued before his heart could give out at the adorable scenery in front of him. “I make sure to keep those girls safe. The ones that didn’t get chosen and the one that did. They usually come back after Corneo was done with them.”

“But they didn’t this time,” Cloud caught on quickly as a somber silence followed soon after. The other man sighed, looking wearier than his youthful and well-styled looks should allow.

“When I confronted Corneo about the girls, he laughed and told me that they ran away.” He closed his eyes, frustration evident in his voice, and it reminded the ex-mercenary of a time when he was dragged by the trio for a drink at one of the Gold Saucer’s many bars. He remembered the flamboyant man strangely being disquieted after having one too many Behemoth Horn shots as he talked about the times before Meteorfall. And the time before Corneo.

( _“Honey Bee Inn wasn’t called Honey Bee Inn when I first saw it. It was a distasteful whore house started by some depraved elitists who wanted their own place to indulge in the sins of pleasure. It was a place with little regard for the beauty of the mind and of the body. Then I saw a young girl there, dancing and singing on the rooftop in the bright of day, and found my inspiration through her._

_“I bought it with everything I had and got formal permission from Madam M’s father, to build the Honey Bee Inn._

_“It was everything I hoped that it would be. There were lights, glamour, dancing, and shows! Shows every night! And whenever the Wutainese would have a festival, we would always be welcomed to show our talents and wares._

_“Corneo came as the Wutai War continued into its second year. Shinra began to increasingly promote anti-Wutai sentiments and Wall Market, the epicenter of Wutainese culture and its community in Midgar, took a devastating hit.”_ )

“...So you want me to find the girls?”

“Oh no, I have an inside man who figured out what Corneo was doing with the girls,” Andrea mentioned with a wave of his hand. “But I’m not in the position where I could openly stand against the Don and take those girls back.”

“So you want me to get the girls then?”

“Ideally, yes.” The other made eye contact with the blond man, his expression thoughtful and contemplative. “But I’m sure you have places to be. Even if you freed the girls once, I doubt you’ll linger for a second time.”

Cloud couldn’t help but look down at his charge, the child slowly chewing his way through his plate, and didn’t say anything more. It would be the peak of stupidity to stay in Midgar while he had Zack to take care of. It might have worked for Aerith, who had the subsequent backing of the Turks, but he had no such allies among ShinRa.

“Then I can’t help you.” Even though Cloud wanted to help in some way. Not for any sense of justice or goodwill, but because Andrea… the kids liked Andrea. Every time he visited the Gold Saucer with Denzel and Marlene, the flamboyant man would appear out of nowhere to offer himself as their playmate and tour guide as if they hadn’t been there many times before. It felt... wrong to turn the other down when his future self had done many favors for the ex-mercenary himself. 

“No, you can,” Andrea said otherwise, leaning forward with a suspicious glint in his eyes. “You need a way out of Midgar, no?”

“...Yes,” Cloud admitted with some reluctance, wary of the other’s eager look. 

“It seems that Corneo is not only taking my girls -but girls from all over Midgar- out of the city.” Cloud tilted his head at the new information but neither commented or looked surprised by it. He remembered scrambling in the damp and foul sewers, chasing after some creature because he took the last remaining thing Leslie had of his fiancee. In between all the mess with Shinra, Sephiroth, and the end of the world, it was only now that he wondered whether the bitter young man had ever found her-- had the reunion she had promised through their engagement present. “We don’t know where the final destination is; the Don doesn’t trust me or Sam with the transit information and my man on the inside is not high enough in the ranks to be involved any further than loading the… merchandise.”

They both made a distasteful expression at the word but Cloud stayed silent, preoccupying himself by helping Zack reach for the napkin on the table, before gesturing to the other to continue on. 

Andrea flickered his gaze towards the child before explaining the rest of his plan. “Frankly, the best and most discreet way to track the shipment would be to become the merchandise.”

“...It would be difficult for me to report back,” he disputed with a growing sense of dread that was difficult to explain. Regardless, unless they both have a secured PHS or a mailing address not monitored by Shinra, Cloud wouldn’t be able to explain the shipping route to Andrea. Nevermind that he had no intention of coming back to Midgar so as long as Shinra (and Hojo) still existed. 

“Oh, I won’t expect you to. I already have a… volunteer for that job.” Andrea had both a fond and exasperated tone once he mentioned the ‘volunteer’. “But that’s what I’m concerned with. She’s tough but not exactly a fighter.”

“You need me to be her bodyguard,” Cloud concluded with a surprised blink before a sense of nostalgia filled him of another time spending the days around Sector Five with a spunky girl wearing a pink ribbon. He restrained from lifting a hand to reach for the bright fabric tied around his bicep and pretended not to hear the tinkling laugh of a dear, old friend in the back of his mind. Why did this feel like that this would be the direction Aerith would point him towards? “So, you’re going to have me stand in as one of Corneo’s men?”

“Of course not,” Andrea immediately refuted, waving a hand to emphasize his words. “That wouldn’t be possible.” The ex-mercenary looked at the flamboyant man blankly, his open blue-eyes full of confusion. Andrea, on the other hand, looked rather gleeful despite the topic on hand. “Corneo knows every man involved in the shipment and rarely changes personnel. I can’t just slip you in as one of his men. You’ll be caught instantly!”

“...Follow them from behind?”

“And how will you get past Shinra’s gate checks in the first place? You come to me because you can’t, right?”

“Then that means…”

With a grin that looked a touch too sinister and mischievous, Andrea slowly answered, “You’ll have to go in as one of the merchandise.”

There was a long silence with only Zack’s spoon scraping against the plate as he scooped up the rest of his mac n’cheese. “...They’re all women,” Cloud felt compelled to point out.

“Yes,” was the high-spirited man’s only response.

“.......” This really did feel like the direction Aerith would point him towards.

“So, do we have an agreement?” Andrea asked in an innocent manner as if Cloud had a choice in the first place.

The sigh he gave in response seemed to be taken as a positive answer because the flamboyant man clapped his hands together with a grin that reminded him too much of Yuffie when a prank that had yet to be discovered was going to be discovered in the most horrendous way possible. 

“Excellent! Now since you don’t have any plans coming back to Midgar, I’m sure you want to do a little shopping for necessities. Here—” Andrea flashed a card in between his fingers, not unlike how Sam did when he offered the VIP card, and held it out for the blond to take. A little hesitantly, Cloud grabbed the piece of plastic and nearly choked on his breath when he recognized it as a ShinRa elite black mithril credit card. Of course, he never saw one before during the time Shinra was still up and running and he was pretty sure most people thought of it as a myth created by the rich. He sure as hell didn’t think these things were real until one was literally dropped in his hand. “I’ll need you both back by 5 PM to get you ready for your subsequent ‘kidnapping’.”

“Wait,” Cloud sputtered, dropping the intimidating item onto the table. “What about my things--”

“They’ll be sent along with you disguised as stolen goods or drugs on the same shipment.”

“I have money—”

“It wouldn’t hurt to save for the road. Or if you rather, you can call it as payment for your bodyguard services.”

“But Zack--”

“Will be dressed along with you.” Andrea lowered his gaze to make eye contact with the young boy, a pleasant and friendly expression gracing his handsome features. “Hello, Zack. Do you mind being put into a dress?”

The said child with the cat-like eyes peered back at the other adult as he chewed the last of his mac n’cheese as slowly as possible. His jaw stopped moving for approximately 5.2 seconds, as if seriously pondering about the flamboyant man’s question, before turning away further into his guardian’s chest, curling on the man’s lap. It looked like he didn’t really care either way. 

“... They’ll allow children to come along?”

Andrea made a bitter and cynical grimace. “Not exactly. Rather... I’ve heard that they fetch a high price for certain… buyers.”

Though Cloud’s face stayed blank, the arm of the chair creaked under his grip. He thought of bright and playful Marlene with her long braid and pink bow, of steady and hopeful Denzel with his eyes full of life and smiles full of love, of the orphans who thrived under catastrophe after catastrophe and still looked forward to a better tomorrow, and then moved his gaze down towards his charge. Zack stared back at him with unassuming, trusting eyes, innocent in a way that he never saw with anyone that had those same eyes, and the ex-mercenary had to swallow the bile in his throat and stop himself from holding the child closer into the safety of his arms.

The atmosphere turned from humorous to somber instantly and neither adults did anything to lighten it. Suddenly, Andrea leaned forward and covered Cloud’s rigid hand, the ones digging holes into the chair’s upholstery, with his own. The only reason the ex-mercenary hadn’t nudged it away was because the touch was light and familiar. Though several years younger, he recognized the majority of calluses that marred the dancer’s hand.

“Help me help them,” Andrea suddenly pleaded because realistically, it wasn’t as if going through this plan was actually Cloud’s only option. Just the most discreet one. They were both aware of that, but...at this point, it seemed that his old acquaintance could only confer with outside help. Shinra and the Don were monitoring two of the trio, and the blond doubted that Madam M wasn’t in the same situation as well. Women of all ages were going missing (and _children_ as well, but unless he wanted to run something -or rather someone- through with First Tsurugi, he tried not to think too much on it), anti-Wutainese sentiment was at an all-time low, and an unsaid threat seemed to be looming over the entirety of Wall Market. 

It was difficult to say what made Andrea trust the blond man in front of him when he hadn’t even asked for the other’s name. Maybe it was the way he looked upon his girls and boys, dressed in flattering but left little-to-the-imagination clothing as if they were human beings and not objects of lust and pleasure. Maybe it was the way the child had clung onto him in a way that described his dependence and trust. Maybe it was the way the man had cared for said child with a tenderness and softness that melted the edges of his frigid features. Or maybe it was the way they just seemed to _click_ as if they had known each other for a long time. 

Either way, though the blond-haired man was not their only option, he was their best. Andrea had a feeling that as long as the other accepted the job, everything should turn out fine. 

“...We’ll be back.”

…--------...

People had been giving him weird looks ever since he got escorted out from the Honey Bee Inn.

First, there was Mav who had been giving him side glances every half-minute after Andrea had summoned him to lead them to the front entrance. Then Chris with his suspiciously innocent smile that Cloud wasn’t sure how to answer to when they passed by the receptionist desk. After that, whenever he used the credit card forced upon him by the insistent dancing star, people seemed to jump to give him discounts or items not even on the shelves. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was unsure of how much money was reasonable for a trip across the world, he would’ve used the money he stole from Corneo instead just to avoid the attention.

He didn’t shop for a lot of things; regardless of his SOLDIER strength, it was better to pack light and only gather the essential. Andrea’s plans somewhat guaranteed that their final destination had to be somewhere out of the wastelands; after all, who would want to do business in the middle of monster-infested lands? And that meant he wouldn’t have to worry about food or water unless he went near an area with a mako reactor. Most towns had clean water and Cloud planned on taking as many water bottles as he could carry. For food, he could hunt-- he found very early in life that most monsters were edible even if some of them looked like the back end of someone's anus. Some dry snacks and ration bars wouldn’t hurt in the long run though, which would serve as a meal if they were tight on supplies.

It was near four by the time Cloud finally finished the last of his shopping, barely dodging the enthusiastic store owner as the man showed off all the clothes his store had to offer. Considering the nature of Wall Market, it was difficult finding anything that would fit Zack. Children were not a common sight even during the day time. More people had looked their way to goggle at the child clinging onto his hand, somehow brushing off the adult with the ostentatiously large sword attached to his back. They only finally looked away once he gave them a glare and a subtle shift of the shoulders to remind them that, yes, he did know how to use the ridiculously humongous, but very sharp, sword on his back.

Regardless, he didn’t make a beeline towards the Honey Bee Inn. Instead, he made his way towards the north entrance of the market, surprised by the line of stores that wasn’t there several years later. In his first time to Wall Market, this side of the area was like a ghost town with the materia dealer and Madam M’s massage parlor as the only open businesses. But now, rows of Wutainese shops lined the street, clean, well-lit, and so much different from what he remembered. It was almost disorientating, to the point he almost took a wrong turn down the street. All the trash that used to litter on the ground, and weeds growing in between the stone pathways were all gone. Everything looked… not new, but occupied. Animated. With an atmosphere contrary to the rest of Wall Market. Much less wired and crude and more mild and pleasant.

Madam M’s parlor had always been the more well decorated and cleaner part of Wall Market and even more so in its peaked glory. There was an actual _garden_ surrounding the solid fence, though most of it fake and some barely green, and the walls looked freshly painted and bright with polished wood and subtle reds. On the front door hung a sign that said ‘closed,’ but Cloud wasn’t there for a massage anyway so he entered in without so much of a knock. 

The door was unlocked, surprisingly, and he honestly wasn’t expecting the crowd of Wutainese people in the small reception area. Everyone froze as soon as he entered and Cloud could feel Zack ducking behind his leg. Intuitively, the child was aware that his guardian was trying to hide his hair and eyes and lowered his head to block further scrutiny. Something in the blond’s throat soured.

As soon as they were away from Midgar, as soon as they were in the wild, no matter how much the features freaked Cloud out, he would have to make sure Zack knew there wasn’t anything shameful about his hair and eyes. They were… they highlighted every single one of the ex-mercenary’s nightmares, but it was nothing for the child to be ashamed of.

There was a painfully awkward and tense silence afterward, and while some looked at him with wariness, most looked at him with fear. They immediately zeroed in towards his eyes and it took too long for Cloud to remember that he never put back his bandana on. His mako-glow was exposed for everyone to see. 

Even with his enhanced hearing, it was easy to decipher the whispers spoken in Wutainese. There was a word that the ex-mercenary didn’t recognize, a combination of _akuma_ and _yugure_ and was described with fear and horror. Otherwise, neither side spoke up and as the minutes ticked by, Cloud became aware of his deadline with Andrea and knew he had no time to waste.

“Watashi wa toraburu no tame ni koko ni imasen,” (“I’m not here for trouble,”) he announced in fluent Wutainese. He barely had an accent that could be pointed out or criticized by others, but it only seemed to spook them more anyways.

“N-Naze watashitachi wa anata o shinjinakereba naranai nodesu ka?” (“Why should we believe you?”) one of them spat out, and then seemed rather confused that he was speaking in Wutainese to someone who obviously wasn’t a Wutainese. The atmosphere turned from apprehensive to befuddlement.

Now it was clear that the stranger knew Wutainese, everyone pursed their lips and held their tongues in fear of being understood. The silence in the room was brought up to a new whole level of awkwardness and Cloud had to bite back a sigh of frustration. “Moto-san wa doko desu ka?” (“Where is Ms. Moto?”) Moto was Madam M’s last name and what the ‘M’ in her alias stands for. He was not sure if his old acquaintance was called Madam M this far back, but in front of other Wutainese people, she would probably be more identifiable by her real name than her Wall Market persona. 

Suddenly, a door from the back slammed open, making the decor on the walls tremble and the Wutainese in the room flinch, and it was only because of how Madam M had styled her hair that Cloud could see her from behind the throng of people. Someone was whisper-hissing to her, the words a little bit too jumble and quick for him to catch or understand, but they were hushed immediately by a snap of a fan.

People started to part to the side, creating a pathway for the woman to go through. Madam M had always looked rather young when Cloud had first met her and she looked even younger now with lighter make-up and her kimono properly worn. Nonetheless, he remembered her aggressive spirit and hot temper, which was still present in her younger self as the Wutainese woman strutted up towards the ex-mercenary. She gave him a once over not unlike how she did when they first met before holding out her hand towards him.

Automatically, he held out his own as well before it was slapped away by a fan. “Andrea’s card,” she asked for instead and Cloud paused for a minute before looking away to grab the credit card tucked inside his sleeve to hide his embarrassment. Right. Why did he do that as if he was a dog given the command to ‘shake’?

He dropped the item into her waiting palm and she gave it a quick inspection before turning around to the crowd.

“Deteke. Watashiniha shusseki suru bijinesu ga arimasu.” (“Get out. I have business to attend to.”) She said it in her no-nonsense voice, the same one that she used to send him out doing errands while she turned Aerith into her dress-up doll. There were protests regardless though.

“Moto-san, anata wa kono mishiranu hito to hitori ni sa rerubekide wa arimasen!” (“Moto-san, you should not be left alone with this stranger!”)

“Corneo wa dodesu ka?! Sono futotta kappa wa watashitachi no seikatsu o odokashite imasu!” (“What about Corneo?! That fat kappa is threatening our livelihoods!”)

“Urusai!” she snapped, her rich voice louder than the commotion everyone else was making. “Hoshoku-sha ni chokumen suru kiba ga nai baai, uminomukō ni kaze o shōkan suru kenri wa arimasen!!” (“If you do not have fangs to face a predator, you have no right to summon the wind over the seas!”)

“‘Hoshoku-sha ni chokumen suru kiba ga nai baai?’” A large Wutainese man with an arm covered in colorful tattoos sneered. “Motto buta no yō ni!” (“More like a pig!”)

“Watashitachi wa kare o kare no ryuu no gyokuza kara hikisageru koto ga dekimasu!” (“We can pull him down from his dragon throne!”)

“Sore wa sakana no gyokuza no yōna monode wa arimasen ka?” (Isn’t it more like a fish throne?”)

“Orokamono!” Madam M barked, her temper flaring into new heights. “Hizamazuite mune ni naifu o muketainara, watashi no gesuto ni natte kudasai! Deteike!” (“If you want to get on your knees and point a knife to your chest, be my guest! Get out!”)

There were some grumbles and a lot of dissatisfaction in the air, but they finally made their way towards the exit. Carefully, Cloud moved himself and Zack away from the front entrance and allowed the crowd to pass them. And if there were a few glares targeted towards him, then he was gracious enough to ignore it.

Soon, the parlor was emptied until it was only Cloud, his charge, and Madam M left, the door slamming closed as the last person left. With a huff, the Wutainese woman turned around and threw Andrea’s credit card over her shoulder, which the ex-mercenary caught with a quick hand.

“Andrea’s new plaything, right?” Madam M uttered in a careless manner as she sauntered around the reception desk. Cloud wasn’t sure how to react to being called as a ‘plaything’ except for the astonished blink that betrayed his surprise. 

Most people would be offended by the insinuation, and maybe it was a little too close to his nemesis’ favorite description of him ( _“My puppet,”_ a purring voice echoed in the memories he tried burying), but he was long used to the Wutainese woman’s very foul mouth. 

He then felt the shuffle behind him rather than heard it and recalled Zack still clinging onto the back of his pant legs. Without thinking much about it, he bent down to pick up the child, who immediately responded by transferring his grip to the adult’s shirt instead. “Well, tell Andrea that I don’t have time for his whims--” As soon as she turned around from the opposite side of the counter, she visibly startled at the sight of the child in the blond’s arms, which caused the ex-mercenary to sigh. 

“Moto-san--”

“You can address me as Madam M. I don’t know where you got that name…” To cover her stunned reaction, she opened her fan and fluttered it in front of her face. “But _Moto-san_ was my father.”

“...Madam M,” Cloud corrected after a short pause, moving his chin up to allow Zack to tuck his head under it. “Do you have any Wutainese robes that I could buy from you?” 

Her fan froze in mid-wave before she jerked her grip to close it with a snap. “Why?”

“Or do you know someone who would sell me some Wutainese robes?” the ex-mercenary amended instead with a straight face, but it seemed that Madam M still didn’t like the words that came out of his mouth. She pointed her fan towards his face, the top just inches from the tip of his nose. 

“Why.” The way she said ‘why’ was phrased more like a demand than a question. And maybe with her future self, Cloud wouldn’t mind answering to the unsubtle and rude interrogation, but with Shinra breathing down his neck and Madam M’s blatant hostilities, it was better for both parties involved not to know too much of each other.

“It’s none of your business,” was his blunt response, which caused the Wutainese woman to narrow her eyes in a way that made Masamune’s blade seem dull.

“Because it’s obvious that Andrea likes you, I’ll let that rude behavior of yours go,” she said rather ironically, slowly moving out from behind the counter the same way a predator would stalk injured prey. “But if you think you can waltz into my parlor, demand my time, and then ask something completely unreasonable--” Cloud couldn’t help but step back as she stalked into his personal space. “Give me a reason why I shouldn’t drag you outside and have you…” She trailed off as her eyes inadvertently glanced at the child in his arms, who peered at Madam M with wary eyes as soon as he noticed her closeness. The woman made a rather uncomfortable expression before finally moving away to a more agreeable distance.

“...Unreasonable?” the blond questioned out of confusion. What was so unreasonable about buying Wutainese robes?

Madam M shot him a rather sour look. “If you want to dress up and roleplay some Wutainese bedroom scenes--”

“What,” Cloud choked out with widening eyes, color slowly crawling up from his neck.

“--then I’m sure those cheap and gaudy excuses of Wutainese robes from the costume store would suffice!”

“No--” the flustered man sputtered, looking frantically down at Zack who, thankfully, seemed disinterested in the conversation. “I’m not-- Sore wa sorera no mokutekide wa arimasen!” (“That is not what those are for!”)

“Watashi ni uso o tsukanaide kudasai!” (“Don’t lie to me!”) she hissed back. “Naze anata no yōna otoko wa sorera ga hoshī nodesu ka?!” (“Why else would a man like you want those?!”)

“Wa-Watashi no yōna otoko?!” (“A man like me?!”)

“Kumo…” They both paused their argument hearing a soft, mumbling voice slicing through the tense air. Cloud looked down to see Zack looking up at him with large, innocent eyes. It was the first time he ever called Cloud by his name… well, his alias. Which might as well be his name now since he couldn’t actually give out his real name willy-nilly. “Sore wa hobo senshichihyakuji desu.” (“It’s almost seventeen hundred hours.”)

It took a minute too long for Cloud to figure out that Zack had just spoken in Wutainese and proceeded to choke on his spit. He tried not to look horrified by the fact that his charge had understood every single word that was being said at the beginning of their conversation. Granted, they didn’t really say anything inappropriate despite the topic…

“Kumo?” Madam M scoffed in disbelief. “That’s your name?”

“And if it is?” Cloud briefly took his attention away from the child to focus on the woman before him. “Look, if you don't want to sell them to me, forget it.” Zack was right. It was almost time for his scheduled meeting with Andrea and he did not have the time to banter endlessly with the Wutainese.

“Oh no.” She intercepted him just as he was turning around to leave the parlor, standing in front of the door with a determined glare. “Now see here, if Andrea gave you his card, that means he’s _interested_ in you.” Seeing his blank expression, she scoffed, putting a hand on her hip in an irksome manner. “He _likes_ you.” It was obvious that Cloud was still not able to put two and two together, judging by the befuddlement that could only be seen in his bright blue eyes.

Just as she was about to dumb it down further for the surprisingly obtuse blond, someone knocked on the door of the parlor just right behind her. “Madam M,” rumbled the voice of a certain cowboy, whose voice sounded particularly amused. “You’re not scarin’ away our hired hand, are ya?”

There was a slight pause before she gave Cloud one final dirty look. Turning around with both grace and aggressiveness, she ripped open the door, scowling when she saw the bearded man who lifted his cowboy hat as a greeting. Along with the scowl was a tinge of pink on her cheeks that the make-up was unable to cover, but both men knew that if they dared mentioned it, they would find some parts of their anatomy missing.

Madam M glanced back at the blond briefly before bringing her attention back to the cowboy. “He’s one of yours?”

There was a quirk of a smile on Sam’s lip, mostly hidden behind his facial hair, before he answered with a carefully controlled tone, “He’s helping with Andrea’s pet project.”

The air stilled between Madam M and Chocobo Sam, dark-brown and smokey-grey eyes conversing with each other until the Wutainese woman was the first to look away with a pinched brow. “That still doesn’t explain why he needs Wutainese robes.”

“Yeah…” Sam looked back at the ex-mercenary with a raised eyebrow. “It doesn’t.”

Now under the scrutiny of both Madam M and Chocobo Sam, Cloud heaved out an irritable sigh. Though there was an unsaid rule in Wall Market about not digging up anyone’s personal information, that never stopped the trio from being a nosy bunch when they wanted to be. “We’re not coming back to Midgar,” was all he was willing to give. Apparently, it was all he really needed to give because as soon as the words left his mouth, a figurative lightbulb brightened the Wutainese woman’s entire face.

“You--”

Sam put a gentle hand on her shoulder, stopping her verbal carnage before she could even start. He stared into the blond’s mako-glowing blue eyes, the cowboy’s expression surprisingly stern and somber, before taking a quick glance at the resting child in his arms. Zack had been watching the other two adults with wariness and even with his hood on, it was impossible to hide the unique green radiance of his eyes. “I’m sure the young’un would enjoy the fresh air there,” he said slowly, deliberately.

Madam M followed her co-worker’s gaze, saw the luminescence in the child’s orbs, and pursed her dark-red lips. Something complex passed her beautiful face, something that Cloud barely even caught. He wasn’t sure what went through their minds, but he could guess it all had something to do with Zack’s cat-like eyes. After all, the mako-glow was the trademark of a SOLDIER. 

The inner makings of SOLDIER were strictly kept confidential even to the majority of Shinra’s higher-ups, but even the public knew it wasn’t a painless process. 

“...It’s a horrendous place to be right now,” she offered instead of whatever scathing thing she wanted to say in the first place. “It’s a terrible idea.”

“...There’s nowhere else.” Currently, there were only three places on the planet untouched by Shinra: The Forgotten City, Cosmo Canyon, and Wutai. 

Taking Zack to the Forgotten City wasn’t something he could do-- there were too many nightmares associated with that place for him to even consider it in the first place. 

Cosmo Canyon was the next best thing: Nanaki was there, for one, (at least, he hoped his friend was there-- Cloud would never forgive himself if the lion was actually under Hojo’s care and he _just left him there_ \--) and the residents of Cosmo Canyon were as friendly as they come. But the land was saturated with the energy of the Lifestream, and in every crevice, in every fault and crack, a bit of it flowed out. Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem…

Cloud looked down at Zack, looked at the child’s silver hair, his slit-pupils, the mako-green color and glow of his eyes, and tried not to see JENOVA, suspended in a tank with long silver locks drifting in the mako, and her son, descending from the heavens without a care for gravity, inhuman in his grace and power and horror.

Zack, regardless of his innocence, regardless of his young age, was a descendent of that mad lineage. The J-Cells, the remnants of the _Calamity_ , passed on to him would cause the planet to reject the child by default, and without Aerith guiding the Lifestream, he wasn’t sure how it would react to the young boy.

His hand was somehow not trembling as he laid a hand on the young boy’s warm back, redirecting his charge’s attention from the nosy pair to his guardian. Even with the child’s lacking facial expression, there was a dependence in his large eyes and Cloud could detect a ping of inquisitiveness, of novelty as if there was something on the blond’s face that the little one hadn’t seen before.

Cloud remembered how the child had gazed at Aerith’s flowers, full of awe and fascination, and suddenly, fervently, wanted to protect that wonderment.

So, that left Wutai, the last standing independent nation from Shinra’s influence. 

“There _won’t_ be anywhere else for long.” Madam M’s voice was like a slap of reality. Because Shinra had nearly complete control over the entire planet with resources and technological advances in excess. In hindsight, it was an incredible feat for Wutai to last as long as they did, lengthening the war into a near-decade rather than succumbing in a few short years. But everyone knew it was only a matter of time; it was like watching a mouse struggling under the paw of a tiger.

Even so…

“I’m going to be late,” he mentioned with a stubborn set in his jaw. “Forget the robes.” He stepped around the duo in order to leave but Sam was still blocking the door and Madam M seemed reluctant to move as well. 

The Wutainese eyed him with a sharp glint in her earth-brown eyes. “... I’ll send the robes to Andrea,” was her final word before she turned away with a graceful swirl of her kimono’s long sleeves. Her sandals clacked loudly against the wooden floors as she sauntered away towards her office. 

Sam had a rather amused expression on his face, a soft quirk of his lips appearing at Madam M’s brisk attitude, and shook his head when the Wutainese woman unneededly slammed the door to her room shut.

Cloud, on his part, tried not to look bemused by her sudden exit. This Madam M seemed more… not exactly more fiery, but a bit off from the steady force of nature that matured in the dark underground of Wall Market. She displayed more of her caring side as well, which was originally hidden deep beneath a cynical and bitter facade.

( _“You--” Madam M hiccuped, nearly flat-faced on the counter, “You shoulved seen it!” After way too many jars of sake consumed, the usually impeccable woman drank herself drunk. Cloud, unwillingly dragged to the nearest Wutainesse barbeque restaurants, could only flag the waiter for a pitcher of water._

_“It was everything chichi wished for. Cobblestones, red lanterns, Leviathan motifs around every corner-- he wanted Wall Market to become the second coming of Wutai Harbor. But better.” The ex-mercenary was unable to stop the sloshing cup full of sake from reaching her mouth and watched with a tinge of fascination as she downed it in one go._

_Suddenly, she slammed the innocent glass onto the surface, causing all of the bottles littering the table to rattle, and much to Cloud’s horror, tears began to swell up in the corners of her dark eyes._

_“Damn Shinra! Damn them all to hell so that King Enma may tear their souls apart and reincarnate them as bait worms!” Madam M then burst into a sob before dramatically throwing herself into her arms. Awkwardly, praying that Sam would come back from… from wherever the chocobo handler disappeared off to after the sixth bottle of sake was brought to their side of the bar, the ex-mercenary gingerly patted the Wutainese woman on the shoulder. His attempts of comforting went unappreciated as she tossed her head back and brushed his touch aside, angry once again._

_“Damn those old geezers! If they just let Shinra do whatever they want, let them build their damn mako reactors, we would still have Wall Market--”_ )

“Well,” Sam hummed, readjusting his cowboy hat to hide the rest of his mirth. “Andrea’s waiting on y’all. Ready to go, cowboy?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yoho's FFVII random little headcanons:
> 
> (1) Andrea thinks that FF7!Cloud is rather cute, if not a little repress, but whooo boy. The crush he has on AC!Cloud is ruining his life in more ways than one. Everyone in the Honeybee Inn is in on it lolololol
> 
> (2) At one point, Wall Market was mostly dominated by Wutai merchants. Which is probably obvious to most of you, but not really compounded in a lot of fics? It explains the way Wall Market was designed, with a lot of Wutainese architect and decor, especially 'Corneo's mansion', which looked to be large Wutainese community center or business center before being repurposed by the Don. In the remake, I thought it was really interesting and really cool that when you first enter into the mansion and saw all the unused vendor and food stalls. There must have been some really cool and big festivals in its heyday. 
> 
> I'm sorry this chapter took so long! Things had gotten really busy for me and it made fleshing this chapter out more difficult. At least it's long?  
> Anyway, I'm going to take quite a bit of artistic freedom with the ff7 universe. Mostly Wutai; it's a small, independent, and mostly-isolated nation located on a long strip of land and considering that they were capable of creating a way to control monsters as a mean of warfare against Shinra, I feel that they deserve a bit more than what we got in the compilation.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I'm pretty new to AO3. Well, not new to the website and not new to writing, of course, but new to its writing community? 
> 
> Anyway, I'll be pulling a lot of headcanons out of my ass. And science. And fluff. Mostly the fluff. I wrote this solely for the fluff.
> 
> Sorry for all the grammar mistakes by the way. My usual editor is still finishing the game, the original ff7, and I don't want to spoil too much for her. So, this chapter and probably the future chapters will be unbeta for a while lolololol.


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